


Your Carelessness

by Luna_Vulpes



Series: Lion's Chain: Anthology [5]
Category: Voltron - Fandom, klance - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coming Out, Dating, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, High School, Hispanic Character, Hispanic Lance (Voltron), LGBTQ Character, Latino Character, Latino Lance (Voltron), M/M, Miami, Military, Pregnancy, Prequel, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Unplanned Pregnancy, lgbtq ally, lion's chain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-04-08 11:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19106374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Vulpes/pseuds/Luna_Vulpes
Summary: A prequel for the Klance series "Lion's Chain." - It is recommended you enjoy the original series in order to get the right amount of "feels" for this fic, but you can still enjoy this without it. Just note, its about an original character and the klance is only hinted at here.Summary: Its high school and Miguel finds himself repeating his Biology class. On the first day, he meets Trish, a sassy and determined woman, who wants nothing to do with finding love. Unfortunately, she never figured that Miguel would instantly fall for her.Out of respect and admiration for her dreams of opening a bakery, he keeps his distance, but his kind nature interests Trish, making her unable to look away.Eventually she allows her heart to accept him and her whole world is turned around when she finds herself pregnant at 17.





	1. Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **IF YOU ARE NEW TO LION'S CHAIN SERIES: IT IS RECOMMENDED YOU AT LEAST READ THE FIRST STORY IN THE SERIES! This way you get the ultimate feels factor.** [Lion’s Chain (Klance) ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10733592/chapters/23788332)
> 
> I believe it is time you all finally meet Miguel.
> 
> This story is split into two parts. To celebrate his daughter's birthday, June 5th, today you get part 1. Why not get the chance to hear the story of how her parents met - she loves this story afterall. 
> 
> <3 - Luna

Miguel never believed in the concepts of fate. However, that morning going to his first period class - repeating biology - he found someone new. Someone who could snap him to a reality he never realized he needed.

She sat in the middle of the classroom, notebook ready, and pens stabbed into her high bun. She had different colors - blues, reds, pinks, purples, and greens - ready for her to pull out and use as needed. He could tell she was an organized student ready to learn, but when he leaned to check why she grabbed a blue pen to do something on the paper, he noticed her sketching an elaborate design for a cake.

“What flavor is it?” He asked, hoping the last two minutes before school started would take longer to tick.

“Flavor doesn’t matter as long as it can hold the design. Plus, no matter what flavor, it would be irresistible.” She didn’t even look up, but her sparkling smile forced Miguel’s heart to beat faster.

He felt he could die on the spot, but it would be worth the heart attack.

However, before he allowed his body to give in to the attack, he wanted to know a little more about his would be murderer. He tried not too lean too forward to provide her space and to not knock over his saxophone case. “How can one get a piece?”

She paused and stabbed the pen back into her bun. “You’ll have to buy one from my bakery once it opens.”

“Can’t get it sooner?”

“Not unless you’re family, a really close friend, or in my cooking class.” She slapped her sketchbook shut and turned around to face him directly. She leaned closer to his face, causing an obvious and flaming red to spread across his cheeks. She analyzed him, scanning with her eyes using a laser like stare. “And I’m not looking to make any friends.”

He instantly knew she just stole his heart.

“What if I don’t want to be your friend?”

She rolled her eyes and turned her back to him. “I don’t need more friends and I don’t need anything more than friends. Especially from a junior repeating a sophomore course.”

His heart cracked at her accurate accusation. “How did you know?”

“You’re Natalie’s oldest brother. She carries a picture of her family taped to her binder.”

Miguel leaned back against his seat and crossed his arms. Yet again Natalie had done something to ruin his day. “I only failed this class.”

“But you still failed. I don’t have time for failures.”

Her harsh tone and words kept digging a trench before his feet made him realize just how quickly he moved from falling in love to falling into a ditch. 

“Do you have time for anything?”

“Yeah.” She whipped her head back to him. “Baking cakes you’ll never get to eat.”

Her light brown - nearly hazel - eyes shone underneath the fluorescent lighting of the classroom. The teacher closed the front door and began to welcome the class back to another year at Southwest Miami Senior High School. 

She turned her head to listen to the teacher and only when a name was called by the teacher for roll and she acknowledge herself as the owner of it, did he come back to reality.

_ Trish… _

#

It was the first Friday of the school year and Miguel wondered how exactly he could earn some kind of attention from Trish. All week he attempted to learn more about her, but all he got were a few guys telling him to give up - she’d never had a real boyfriend and she vocally said she would remain that way. She loved baking and every second of her life revolved about going well in school, especially top rankings in her culinary class. 

However, one small bit of information proved useful and today would be his chance to use it. 

“Natalie!” he called out from across the school’s courtyard. He ran over to his sister as she glared at him wondering what had happened. He was never one to acknowledge her at school, due to her request to do as such, but he always smiled way too happily. He stopped in front of her and flipped his keys in the air. His eyes landed on the person she had been talking to. 

_ Trish.  _

“What is it? Did  _ mami  _ call? Did Lance miss his bus again?” 

“No. No, nothing like that. I was wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner tonight. It’s been awhile since we hung out alone.” 

She glared at him suspiciously, but he smiled at her beggingly. Miguel needed to speak with her. This wouldn’t be a sibling escape - this would be an interrogation for information she possibly had. 

“Sure. But you’re paying, right?” 

“Yeah - yeah…” He said without really listening, eyes too preoccupied. 

“Perfect.” She smiled mischievously and turned to Trish. “I’ll come over tomorrow morning and we can get started on that project. Call me.” 

“Will do. See ya, Nat… and you too.” She pulled her backpack more comfortably before walking around Miguel and heading to the car line. 

Nat smiled and waited for Miguel to give her full attention. “Alright. You said you’re paying.” She grabbed the string from his hoodie and yanked him towards student parking. 

“Wait… I did?” He realized the mistake he had made. 

#

Four bowls of freshly made ramen later, Natalie ordered a fried ice cream and more tea. Miguel grumbled and waited patiently for her to finally answer his question. The torture she inflicted hit him like a boulder rolling down a hill. 

“Can you just tell me what you know about Trish already?” he begged.

She giggled into a napkin and rested her chin on her hand. “Fine. You waited long enough. I’ve known Trish since last year.”

“And?” He nearly yelled.

“And you don’t have a single chance of even getting to know her last name. She’s not interested. Trust me.”

He banged his head on the table. A nearly fifty dollar meal and nothing. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because she has her eyes on a prize and anyone distracting her will ruin it. That girl can bake! She took third place as a freshman at the state culinary competition. No freshman has ever placed before her. She’s on track to get a full ride to any culinary program in the nation. Do you really think a boy is more important than that?”

He banged his head against the table again and whimpered. “But she’s so pretty.”

“And she’ll eat you alive. Move on big bro. You won’t have a chance.”

The fried ice cream and the check reached the table. He mumbled several curse words in Spanish as he read the total and paid.

#

A month passed and no matter Natalie’s words, Miguel couldn’t stop looking at Trish. The way her curls would zig and zag in every  direction of her high bun with the colored pens giving it an attention-seeking flare. The way she chewed at the end of her pencil while listening to the teacher and taking diligent notes. How her voice seemed to sing when she asked clarifying questions or answered every question correctly.

A genius. He figured she had to be the smartest one in the class.

When the bell rang, he fell out of his trance and gathered his things. Before walking out the teacher stopped him and asked him to stay behind. He knew that look, a dreadful look of disappointment and displeasure on his teacher’s face. She had said several things, but Miguel didn’t really listen. The quiz in her hand said it all.

He was failing biology again.

He sighed and said he would try harder before walking out and running to his next class. Throughout algebra two, he stared at the quiz and frowned. How could he allow himself to do this again? It was the beginning of the school year! Surely he couldn’t be failing already?! 

But the large red F said otherwise.

He figured it was time to beg Natalie to help him out. It was already embarrassing enough that he had to ask his eighth grade brother Lance for help in English class. 

Last thing he wanted was to get the lecture again from his parents about working harder in his studies. He did - he tried really hard everyday, but there were things about words that just wouldn’t stick. 

Phonetics? Barely remembered.

Decoding new words, especially scientific ones? Forget about it.

Remembering vocabulary? He could barely remember what he had for breakfast or where was the last place he put his iPod. God forbid it’s in a different spot from where he normally puts it.

Reading and understanding higher level text? He wasn’t planning on being a writer or some scholar. Why even bother? 

His thoughts on attending college were barely existent. A conversation he  _ really  _ didn’t want to have with his parents. Nothing about school was easy for him and there was enough pressure to pass the eleventh grade, now to consider passing a tenth grade biology class - again.

Dreadful. 

When the bell rang for lunch, he dragged his feet over to the center courtyard. Rows of students were already lining up at the food carts ordering pizzas and sandwiches. Miguel took his lunch money and started to count to see if he had any extra to treat himself to a soda to soothe away his growing depression. Suddenly, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned around and found a familiar friend. “Holy shit! Brandon! I was wondering if you were here this year! I asked your teachers and they said you were out of town, but dude, I thought you were moving out for a minute.”

He bear hugged the shorter gentleman, rubbing his back to the old friend, and making sure he knew his words were genuine. When Brandon stepped back, he fixed the collar of his shirt and bow tie.

“I - I had to go to hospital. Mom had a baby,” he replied with a small stutter. His posture slanted to one side, with one shoulder higher than the other, but he wasn’t unbalanced, easily keeping himself upright and giving Miguel eye contact.

“What?! Your mom had a baby?! Why didn’t you tell me last year she was pregnant?!”

Brandon smiled widely, showing off his brilliant and mischievous smile. With a humorous chuckle, he replied, “I wanted it to be a - a surprise.” 

“Well you surprised me for sure. I have got to see pictures. I assume you have some?”

Brandon nodded his head.

“Awesomeness! How about I buy you a soda as a congratulations for being a big brother. You know, I’m the oldest in my family. I can give you a ton of advice.” He reached the front of the line and used the only extra cents he had to buy Brandon the soda. 

“I - I don’t want your advice. You’re a bad big brother,” he joked.

“What?!” Miguel took his lunch and handed Brandon the soda. “How can you hurt my feelings like that? And here I was about to ask you if you were still going to be in Best Buddies? But nevermind. Clearly I need to find a new buddy who respects me.”

Brandon laughed again and walked with Miguel to a bench where the other members of the Best Buddies Club sat. Each student, a mix of students with intellectual disabilities and students with either no or mild learning disabilities sat together as a group and ate lunch. 

Miguel greeted each of them before returning to his conversation with Brandon. “Unless of course, you finally admit I’m the better Uno player.”

“Never! You cheat!” Brandon laughed and pulled out a deck of Uno cards. “Rematch.”

“Always.” Miguel sat peacefully with the others, minding his business and playing cards - clearly cheating in order to prove Brandon was right. 

It never failed - his depression fluttered away and he forgot about the F sitting in his backpack.

#

“Miguel?” asked Lance as he leaned over the edge of his top bunk and looked down to his older brother.

Miguel had his face in a biology book, but no matter how many times he read the chapter, the words would process at a rate he couldn’t understand. He decided that not only was he going to ask Natalie to tutor him, but it was time to fess up to Ms. Herrera the next day during breakfast.

His learning disability was hindering his understanding and memorization of the material. There was no way he was going to be able to do this alone.

“What?” he replied, only half listening.

“How did you know you liked girls?” 

His eyes stopped reading and he slowly pulled down the book to get a better view of his younger brother. “I thought we had this conversation already. Do I really need to explain to you again what sex is?”

“No!” Lance darted his head back into the bed and away from the edge. “The diagrams were enough to burn in my brain forever! No I’m talking about  _ actually  _ liking girls.”

“Oh well - I guess it was when I was in fourth grade. I thought Sandra Levvi was really pretty and I wanted to hold her hand all day during class. It made me happy to think about that hand. Still does, honestly… well Sandra now? She’s still hot.”

Lance grumbled and kept speaking. “So you just know? Like you just know you like girls?”

“Yeah. I guess. I mean, I enjoy kissing girls. That helps to know, too.”

Lance stayed quiet for a moment. He started to worry Miguel, but before he could move, Lance said, “What if I get that feeling for boys? What does that mean?”

If Miguel had been drinking water, it would have fallen down the sides of his opened jaw. He tried to remain calm - for all he knew, Lance was simply curious. 

“Well I haven’t, but I have some friends who have. Nothing wrong with questioning things or how you feel. It’s all natural.”

Lance still didn’t reply. Trying to be respectful, Miguel added, “Is that something you’ve felt?”

After a silent two minutes, Lance replied, “I don’t know - maybe - but I still want to kiss girls.”

“Okay… do you want to kiss boys too?”

“I don’t know…”

Miguel kicked the bottom of Lance’s mattress, stunning Lance and causing him to fly upward. When he landed, he turned to the edge and growled down to his brother. “What was that for?”

“To knock some sense into you. I just want to make sure you aren’t doubting your natural feelings. It’s okay to feel whatever it is you feel. If you want to kiss girls, cool. If you also want to kiss boys, also cool. If you only want to kiss boys, also also cool. No matter what, it’s natural… and you’re only fourteen. It’s even more okay to be confused, but don’t deny it to yourself… and maybe not to me, either. You know I’ll always keep your secrets and I’m here if you need me.”

Lance grumbled under his breath, but his eyes spoke of gratitude before he disappeared back on his bed and he pulled out a book from under his pillow. “Let me know when you need me to draw your picture for your book report - I owe you one.”

Miguel chuckled and returned back to his biology book, but then something Lance said caused him to rush off his bed and to his side of their work desk. “Shit! The book report!”

That night Miguel got no sleep and Lance had a lot to think about as he drew a picture of Moby Dick.

#

A week passed and Miguel found himself sitting in Ms. Herrera’s office with another F from another biology quiz in his hand and his book report in her hand, flashing it towards him. 

“Do you know why I gave you the C?” she asked, trying to sound kind and motherly, but Miguel still felt horrible. 

“Because you love me?” he answered sarcastically. 

“Because I know that this is a fluck and you can do better. It’s a second chance, Miguel.” 

“You give me a lot of those.” 

“Yeah. Maybe I do. Should I make it the D it actually earned?” 

“No! No! I’ll accept the C!” He waved his hands as if attempting to stop her. 

She cleared her throat and put the test down. “And tell Lance I really enjoyed his drawing this time. I look forward to having him in my freshmen class next year.” 

He slouched on his seat. “Yeah. I will.” 

She sighed, relaxing her shoulders and sympathetically looking to Miguel across from her. “I know you advocated that you wanted to be in the regular classes this year, but I really must insist you join us in the smaller classes. It’s the same materials, just at a different pace and I can teach you some strategies that will help in all your classes.” 

“No,” he replied sternly. “I was in those small classes all in middle school. I said I wanted to try the regular ones cause I got bored in the small ones. I’m sticking to it. I’m just hopeless.” 

“You are not hopeless. You’re just in the middle. You’re too advanced for the smaller groups, but not really ready for true independence in the larger groups. You just need some extra support.” 

“I already have those extra teachers in my classes…” 

“But you’ve refused my offer to enter the after school peer tutoring groups. I promise you, that is the key. Some one on one tutoring. I have several students who can really help. They have shown success with others.” 

Miguel grumbled and bit his lip. He wasn’t a failure - he knew that - but he hated asking for help. 

Although, nothing was worse than disappointing his parents. 

“Ugh - fine! I guess I can! I’ll tell Natalie to start taking the bus home.” 

“Good,” she replied perking up at her seat. “We will start next Monday. I will find you the perfect peer tutor.” 

He narrowed his eyes in response. 

“Have a good day, Miguel.” She smiled and dismissed him. 

Dragging his feet, he walked the halls. It was already the middle of lunch and he knew most of the good food would be taken. He made his way to the courtyard and ordered a sandwich he wasn’t completely sure was edible, but his stomach didn’t care if it was cardboard or glass. 

Looking around for his usual group, he waved at a table with five other kids. Taking a seat on the table, they joked that he propelled them to his direction due to his larger weight. He threw small pieces of stale bread at them and continued to eat. 

“When is jazz band starting this year? It’s taking forever,” said Stacy, a ginger with bright freckles. 

“November. That’s when Mrs. Alvarez comes back from maternity leave,” replied Alexander, a short man with a bob and piercings all over his ears. 

“Ugh, I can’t wait. Band class - my only saving grace! It’s been so boring with that sub,” said Miguel.

“We all need jazz band,” said Stewart, a skinny senior with bright blue hair and a leather vest, even though the weather was far too humid for it. 

“True that!” Miguel agreed. 

“Anyone want an ice cream bar? My treat,” said Melissa with her brown hair braided and sparkling hazel eyes. 

Miguel immediately raised his hand. 

She giggled and Stewart accompanied her to buy everyone a treat. Miguel looked around the courtyard, wondering to himself who would be the unlucky person slated to tutor him. He figured whomever that person would be needed to have miracle-working capabilities and patience.

Then out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Melissa making her way back. She stopped as someone pulled Stewart from the collar of his shirt and dragged him down to the ground.

Miguel instinctively stood up and ran towards the forming circle.

“Hey fag! What gives you the balls to think Jacob was some homo like you? Learn your place,” said Joshua as he held Stewart pinned to the floor.

Stewart’s eyes widened, panic all over his features. “I misread, okay? I didn’t mean to offend. I just took a chance and asked him. He denied me. Nothing else…”

“Yeah well you really fucked up trying to stick your dick in him.”

“What?! All I did was ask him out! He said no and I moved on!” Stewart insisted.

“Whatever fag…” Before Joshua could continued, he was kicked off Stewart with Miguel’s foot. He rolled on the floor and looked up once the dust settled.

“Hey! No need for such foul language on campus. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Miguel asked as he stepped forward helping Stewart to his feet. 

Joshua stood up and spit the dirt out of his mouth. “This has nothing to do with you. Unless he’s your boyfriend?” He laughed, but Miguel didn’t miss a beat. 

“And? What if he is? I’d be lucky to have Stewart as my little bear. Unfortunately for me, I’m pretty straight so I’ll have to live my life knowing I can’t date this awesome guy.” 

Joshua frowned his eyebrows in disgust. “What the fuck, man? That’s gross.” 

“You’re the gross one for being so offended. It  was a simple miscommunication that had nothing to do with you anyway. Maybe you’re the one that needs to look in a mirror and figure out why it bothers you so much.” Miguel turned away and started to walk off with Stewart safely in front of him, but he could sense the raging bull behind him. 

In a quick second, Joshua charged at Miguel. Miguel turned to have his fist make contact with Joshua’s face. He didn’t expect Joshua’s quick reflect and found his eye meeting a balled hand. 

It didn’t take much longer for them to get into a fight with the whole school gathering around them to watch - including a pair of hazel eyes with colorful pens pinned to her hair. 

#

“ _ ¡Conyo hijo! ¿Cómo puedes ser suspendido de la escuela? ¡Nunca hay una buena razón para pelear! ¡No resolvemos problemas con los puños! _ ” shouted Henry as he paced back and forth in front of Miguel, hiding a fresh black eye behind a frozen bag of peas. 

“I got into a fight because someone attacked my friend. I had to protect him,” mumbled Miguel. 

“ _ ¡Tu!  _ You don’t have to do anything. You could have left them alone!” 

Miguel shook his head and control his urge to shout back. “No way. My friend needed me and I stepped up to protect him. Joshua was the one saying all those things to Stewart. He was the one who started the attack.” 

“And you could have found a teacher to help you! There is no reason for you to have started fighting!” 

Miguel opened his mouth to argue once more, but he knew it was useless. Even his reasons - more than the fact Stewart was a friend, but that he was gay and Miguel hated seeing people mistreated because of who they were born to be. Instead, he sat quietly and accepted the verbal lashing. 

“During your suspension you will make up all your work and you’re going to clean out the garage and basement.” 

“ _ Papi,  _ that will take longer than the suspension week!” 

“And you will finish it during that week or however long it takes you!” 

He flung his arms in the air and claimed defeat.

Henry continued, “Now get ready for dinner and you better apologize to your mother for your actions.” 

“Okay…” he whispered. 

Henry exhaled an enraged breath and left Miguel in the living room. Once cleared, the four remaining McClain siblings peeked from the hallway, slowly leaning their heads in to look at Miguel. 

“I got a week,” Miguel said, “Nat, can you get my make up work?” 

“Sure… I can do that,” she replied. 

They took his words as a signal they could enter. Natalie leaned over and gave him a hug from behind, wrapping her arms around his neck. Lance sat to his left, while Ricardo took the seat to the right, and Armando sat on his lap. 

They all leaned on each other and hugged - if one was in pain, they were all in pain. 

“You did the right thing. I heard what Joshua was saying. So gross,” said Natalie. 

“I did what was right. No one should hear those disgusting things,” added Miguel. 

Ricardo sighed. “You’re always too protective. You could have avoided a fight.” 

Lance grumbled. “No way. That guy deserved to be punched.” 

“A good big punch,” said Armando as he swung his arms in the air. 

Miguel chuckled and patted Armando’s head. “No. Ricardo is right. I shouldn’t have gotten into a fight. Don’t make my mistakes. There are better ways to protect each other - right?” He nudged Lance with his elbow and gave a knowing smile. 

“Yeah…” Lance grinned, resting his head on Miguel’s shoulder. 

The doorbell rang and the siblings all looked up at once like a small pack of puppies. “I’ll get it,” Miguel replied, “I’m the servant of the house for the week.” He jogged over to the door and swung it open without checking who it was. 

To his complete surprise, Trish stood in front of him holding folders and her backpack. 

“H - Hi…” His tongue twisted its words. 

“Hello.” She handed him one of the folders and a notebook. “These are the assignments you will be missing in biology this week along with my notes. I expect my notebook be delivered with Nat on Monday. You can turn in your work to your teacher.” 

“Um - thank you…” He took the items without barely registering his motions. 

“Can I come in? I have an assignment to work on with Nat.” 

“Oh - yeah. Come in.” He stepped to the side and allowed her to enter.” Natalie ran over and looped her arms with Trish’s. 

“Hey. You’re staying for dinner, right?” asked Natalie. 

“Joining us for dinner?” Miguel repeated with a nervous chuckle. 

“Joining Nat for dinner, yes,” Trish replied bluntly.

Natalie giggled. “Awesome. We have like an hour, so let’s get started on our project.” 

As Natalie started to drag Trish away, Trish turned one more time to speak with Miguel. “Purple really isn’t your color.” 

His hand reached over to his black eye as he watched Natalie disappear with Trish to her bedroom. Lance, Armando, and Ricardo slid beside their older brother and watched his helpless and dream-like gaze. 

“So… you like her?” asked Lance. 

“Yeah…” Miguel answered in his love sick tone. 

“She’s way out of your league,” replied Ricardo as he patted Miguel’s back. 

“Too good for you,” added Armando. 

Miguel snapped out of his trance and shoved all of his brothers. They laughed and scattered away, leaving Miguel alone with his packet of work and Trish’s notes. 

#

Like every Friday night, Miguel made his way to Tropical Park. Usually he would take his car and pretend to be meeting his friends, but because he was grounded, he had to bribe Lance not to speak and take the long three mile walk to his favorite spot.

A risk he always felt willing to take. 

He snuck into the public park and made his way to a large hill at the center. After climbing it, he laid his back on the green grass, plugged his earbuds inside his iPod, and started listening to his classic list of 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s music - after one round of the Voltron theme song. 

Nothing in the world mattered except the music, the stars, and his thoughts. 

He tried to think of more positive things: Brandon showing off the pictures of his new baby sister. How excited Miguel was for jazz band to start again. The look of gratitude from Stewart when he passed him at the principal’s office. The support he always felt from his siblings. 

_ Trish… _

Something about that girl kept nagging his attention. She never showed any interest, but today - how did she get all that work for him so quickly and why even bother bringing it to him? His mind flooded with a million different reasons, or more like excuses, as to how his crush was clouding his logical judgements of the situation. 

It didn’t matter how much she glowed like the angels welcoming the newly dead to heaven. 

Instead, he smacked his hand across his own cheek and concentrated on other important matters. He had one week to get his act together - and an apology for Ms. Herrera doing him the favor of getting a tutor only for him not to be allowed back on campus for a week. 

He felt like an idiot. Throwing himself away from the protection of others. The same business that always got him in trouble, but his heart kept betraying him and he had no plans to stop. People sometimes needed protection and if it was up to him, he would save them all. 

Miguel was always willing to save those he loved. 

#

A week passed and Miguel’s whole body ached from all the work he did in the garage and basement. He barely could walk all day at school, nevermind trying to carry around his saxophone that day. When he made it to the media center, he planted himself in a long table and rested  his head on the desk. 

After another lecture, this time from Ms. Herrera, he was told to meet his new tutor there. He wasn’t given a name and he had been too tired to think of asking. The darkness around his eye begun to heal, but the reminisce of his black eye remained and it stung anytime he tried to rub it. 

The exact pain he felt rubbing it when Trish appeared before him. 

“I hope my notes were useful,” she said as she took out two pouches of colorful pens and gave one to him along with seven notebooks and an English 3 textbook. 

“Yeah…” he replied, confused and bewildered. 

“Good. Now I’m going to show you how to break apart questions, chunk the text, and take notes that will grab your attention and not waste time for review.” 

“Excuse me?” He froze, stunned and at a loss. 

“I’m you’re tutor. You did request a peer tutor, right?” 

“Um - yeah… wait. But…” 

“No buts!” She reached across the table and placed her finger over his lips. Her simple touch forced him to swoon. “I am going to put you through hell and I better get two hundred percent of your effort. I am not here to waste time. I am here to help you pass and become better at your studies. Understood?” 

“Oh?” He raised his eyebrow and tilted his his head. “For me?” 

She snarled at him and rolled her eyes. “I get volunteer hours for this, but I don’t want it to go to waste.”

He chuckled. “Of course… so all of this?” 

“Is for you. Hope you didn’t damage that hand with all the fighting. Now open your text to page eighty-nine.” 

He did as she asked and pulled out a purple pen. She glanced over and impatiently signaled for him to follow her instructions. 

“So… purple doesn’t suit me?” he asked carefully, sensing that at any moment she would snap at him. 

She slammed her notebook in front of him, a firm hand holding it down and covering the organized and colorful notes. He jumped back and held his hands up as if trying to block her attack. Instead, she slowly moved her gaze away from him and focused on the notebook.

“Nope. You’re eyes are nicer to look at when they are their natural blue.” She slid her hand away and opened her own textbook, refusing to look up at him.

His mouth twitched a small smiled, trying not to be arrogant, but still living in her words.

_ Trish… _

Maybe tutoring wasn’t going to be all torture afterall.

#

Thanksgiving break was nearing the corner and so was the homecoming dance. Mrs. Alvarez had returned from maternity leave and Miguel found himself with a jammed schedule. 

Monday and Wednesdays were jazz band rehearsals - for the past three week with additional practice in Saturday’s preparing for the dance.

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday he had tutoring with Trish and he had to admit he looked forward to the end of the school day most on those three days. 

She worked him hard, something instilling fear in his eyes and a sweat from his brow. She was no nonsense, tough, and diligent. Her harsher tone would have taken down a weaker man, but Miguel proved himself to be a little more stronger will than expected and showed himself he was more capable than he thought.

It was the Friday before the dance and Miguel met with her at the usual table. He slammed a piece of paper on the table and then posed like a superhero. “My first ever B+ in economics. Thanks to you.”

As he sat down, she reviewed the work and gave an impressed face. “It’s not me. It’s the method. Been proven to work for years.”

“Right. But you taught me the method… so…”

She shook her head. “I’ll take partial credit if that means you’ll shut up and take out that study packet from bio.”

He did as he was told, also taking out his organized notes and packet of pens. He flipped to where they needed to study and he started circling the words that confused him and breaking apart the sentences for comprehension - just as she had taught him.

Still, there was homecoming and last he checked, she didn’t have a date.

“So, Trish. About tomorrow…”

“Don’t bother,” she said with little patience. “I already have a date.”

“Oh.” The disappointment rained over his soul. “Who?”

“Nat.”

His mind shattered. “My sister? Wait?! Who?! She’s not… is she?!” He started backtracking memories and tried to figure out how he missed all the signs.

“Goodness… we are going as friends with some other girls. No guys. No dates. Just us.”

“Ah, that makes more sense.”

She placed her pen down and glared at him. “You were really scared your sister was gay?”

“No,” he answered quickly, “I was more concerned as to why she wasn’t honest with me. She knows I wouldn’t judge her.”

Trish fiddled the pen against the table. “Right? Of course…”

“Do you have a problem…”

“No way. My cousin is gay and she’s the best thing I have in my family. Just making sure you didn’t hate.”

“I’m pretty positive Stewart could confirm that.” He chuckled and returned his attention to the notes.

After some silence, he noticed her getting irritated and tapping her pen more by the second. Then she bursted. “So that’s it? You’re not even gonna ask me?”

He couldn’t speak from utter confusion.

“You’re not going to pester me? Tell me something gross like, ‘why go with your friends when I can give you a ride you’ll never forget _. _ ’ Nothing? You’re just going to accept my answer.”

“First of all I never asked…”

“But you were going to! I know that face.”

He paused and pointed at her after clicking his tongue. “True. But then you said you have plans and I respect your decision to enjoy homecoming how you please.”

“I…” Her mouth hung opened as she tried to find the words to say. “Thanks. I - I’m not used to that.”

“A lot of guys asked you, huh?” He placed his chin on his hand to give her all the attention.

“Yeah! And they all said stupid shit! One guy I had to turn down like three times before I slapped him away.”

He laughed. “Sorry so many boys are mistreating you.”

“Oh? Because you’re different that makes you a man?”

“No. I’m hopeless. And us hopeless people will take what we can get and be polite and respectful to what we can’t control.”

She stopped talking. Her body drooped at his words with sympathy. “You think you’re hopeless?”

He shrugged his shoulders and removed his eyes from her, not wanting to look as he spoke. “Yeah. I’m just meant to be here and move along with life. I’ll take a few chances and if it doesn’t work - as Walt Disney says, ‘keep moving forward.’” 

“I doubt he meant it in that context.”

“It’s how I’m chosen to use it.” He trying to return his focus on his work, but he could sense Trish’s eyes lingering on him and the tapping of her pen getting faster. “Yes?”

“You’re something else, McClain…” 

He grinned softly to himself and kept working. “Just hopeless. Remember that.”

She bit her pen and looked away. “How about this… if you pass all your midterms with a B or higher, I’ll bake you something.”

He dropped his pen and gawked at her. “Hold on. You said you would never bake for me.”

“All the more motivation, right?”

His eyes widened and he barely replied. “Yes! Oh man! Hell yes! The way Nat speaks about your food, I need to try it.”

She giggled into her hand - the first laugh he ever saw from her. Perfect. Made gently with God’s hands personally.

“Well then we have a deal.” She extended her hand and he took a moment to shake it. Her smile felt true to her word and his heart flew out of his chest.

He shook her hand and allowed his wide smile to cross his face. They kept eye contact, much longer than he expected. A sense of magic surging between them.

He saw a door he thought he’d never even see and a hint on how to open it.

#

“Kick to the left! To the left!” shouted Armando as he tried to direct Miguel into doing a better dance move while they played Just Dance in their Wii. 

Miguel tried to do the moves in sync but his competitor was way better. Lance hit every move perfectly. 

While dancing, the door rang and Natalie went to get it. The week off from school gave the family time to play and enjoy it, but the last person Miguel expected to see during his vacation was Trish. As he made the final hip pop pose, he saw her glancing over to him with her hand over her mouth from containing her laughter.

“Studying hard, I see,” she said through her laughter.

“What are you doing here?!” He shouted while shoving Lance away from him, who was trying tease beside him. 

“I invited Trish over for binge night,” said Nat.

“But - But today is my day to pick what we binge,” he whispered.

“Yeah… I know.” Nat took Trish’s as she winked towards Miguel. 

Miguel realized quickly how much his siblings were beginning to pry. 

Lance started the next round and hip-checked Miguel. “Show off the moves bro.”

“Yeah,” said Trish as she took a seat beside Ricardo, “show them off.”

Miguel’s heart sank to his stomach - he did worse than his previous round and Trish laughed louder.

“Okay! I’m done. I’m getting the snacks ready!” He bolted out of the room and disappeared into the kitchen.

Binge night - a family tradition where each sibling took turns picking a show, old or new, to binge watch together. 

Today was his turn and he was forcing all his siblings to sit through Voltron for the fiftieth time, but this time it’s different. This time Trish would be there.

He dumped the popcorn into a bowl and grabbed the six-pack of soda. To his discontent and adoration, the empty seat was between Lance and Trish - his siblings were too good.

He sat down casually and passed around the sodas. Since it was his day, he had to give the traditional introduction. Fighting through his nerves, he started. “Alright. Today we will be watching Voltron! The greatest space adventure in the universe! The Galra Empire is trying to take over all the planets and the Alteans create Voltron, five lion robots that combine create the greatest weapon in the universe, but they are missing their pilots and it’s five teenagers who are given the chance and they come from the planet… Earth…” The more he spoke, the louder and more theatrical his voice boomed.

Armando laughed while Ricardo and Lance got hyped. Natalie sat quietly, but listened with intent. It didn’t matter how many times they all heard it - they loved listening to Miguel talk about Voltron.

And it seemed Trish engulfed herself in his speech as well. 

Once he finished, he started the first DVD and completely forgot the nerves of being around Trish. This was Voltron - this was his first love.

As they watched, each member of the McClain household kept their eyes locked on the TV. As they started the third DVD, Miguel’s attention was finally pulled away at the touch of Trish’s finger grazing against his forearm. 

He turned to peek at her. Her eyes watched the show, interested, and completely lost. He smiled softly to himself at her delight losing far too much on her concentration on an old 80’s cartoon to do. He loved every second of it.

He leaned down when he knew no one else was listening and whispered. “Hey - you’re letting your personality show.”

She huffed out a breath and faced him, an inch away from their noses touching. “I won’t hurt you if you don’t say anything.” With a slick smile, she turned away and continued to watch the show. 

“I promise it’s my secret.”

She smiled and bumped her shoulder against his. “I guess Voltron isn’t so bad,” she whispered to him and he allowed himself to hope that maybe neither was him.

#

As the weeks passed, Miguel found himself sitting in his biology class with a pencil in hand and his midterm waiting in front of him. His body sweat all over his chair, or so he believed, as his pencil shook in his hand and the words jumbled in front of him. He had to pass it. There was too much at stake. 

Looking around, he tried to remember what he needed to do. What were the steps he had to do in order to understand the questions? He had so many strategies that they had worked on, but now they had all disappeared. 

Why couldn’t he remember any of it?

His mouth dried up. An excuse. He needed to go out and breathe. Preparing to raise his hand, he looked up from his test, but paused. 

With her head turned back, Trish locked eyes with Miguel. She grinned - a soft and encouraging grin. She took a deep breath, instructing Miguel to do the same. He did and kept his hands at his desk. He kept his eyes on her and when his shoulders relaxed, she relaxed and turned back to her exam after saying without words:.

_ Don’t give up now Voltron - you can do this - you can save the universe. _

He smiled and took his test - step by step. 

#

Miguel sat in a patio bench and waited patiently after school. The fact that he didn’t see Trish since the last day of midterms, waiting for all of winter break, pained him. He may not have a chance with her romantically, but he would do anything to keep seeing her even platonically. 

Waiting for her at the benches instead of the library worried him, especially since he didn’t understand why. 

To his surprise, a large white box slid in front of him. On top was a piece of paper taped down. When he looked over, he found his report card with his midterm grades - mostly A’s and B’s, even earning a B on his biology midterm.  

“One C in Spanish - seriously, Spanish?” said Trish as she sat in front of him. 

“I struggle enough with understanding English. Cut me a break.” He smiled, more proud of himself than he figured he’d ever be. 

“I will let it slide, this time.” She opened the box slowly, revealing a pile of pastries - a mix of small cupcakes, Cuban pastries, and cookies. 

His mouth immediately drooled. “You baked all of these for me?” 

“Correction. I baked all of them for several people, but these are the ones I selected for you. Good job, McClain. You earned them.” She handed him a napkin and sat up to watch him. 

He struggled to pick which one to eat first. His fingers scanned each delicate and decadent dessert. One finger accidently scooped some of the cupcake’s icing, so he decided to lick it off. The electricity from the balance of sugar, buttermilk, and cream cheese made him quiver. The icing alone was the best dessert he had ever tasted and his stomach roared begging for more. 

“Oh shit…” His eyes rolled back before falling forward in defeat to the taste.

Trish simply smiled with what he swore was a blush rising to her cheeks. It could have easily been the sun burning against her skin, but he wanted to imagine it was because of him. 

He decided to finally dig in, nabbing a  _ pastelito de guava _ . Miguel had eaten many guava pastries in his life, but the flakiness of the puff pastry and the exact amount of gooiness of the guava made it the best one he had ever tasted. The caramel sugar coating only took his taste buds out of the park. 

“God… fuck… damn…” He muttered with a mouth full of food, not even waiting to finish his first bite before taking the next. 

“Slow down and enjoy it,” she demanded with a giggle. 

“But… so… good.” 

“I said enjoy it!” She stood up and pulled his hand down to force him to slow down. 

He grinned with a mouthful and swallowed. “How did you get this good?” 

She came around the table and sat beside him, letting go of his hand and pulling the box closer to her. He tried to not appear in heaven, but her knee brushed against his and the red on his cheeks were not from the blazing sun. 

“I have loved baking since I could remember.” Her smile, nostalgic, telling stories of baking in an older kitchen, stirring some batter as she stood on a stool in order to reach the counter. 

“And it became a passion?” 

“More than a passion. A promise.” She took a cupcake and started to remove the wrapping. 

“To who?” 

“My  _ abuela _ …” She paused before holding out the cupcake for Miguel to take a bite. The rich chocolate covered his taste buds. He hummed in happiness as she continued to speak. “Her whole life, she wanted to open a bakery. She told me how she nearly did it, but then she became pregnant with my father and my  _ abuelo _ lost his job at a factory. She had no choice but to find a work and use their money to keep afloat, but she never forgot her recipes and she gave them to me. One day, I will open her bakery. Name it after her - after me - Trish’s Bakery, Cuban pastries and more.” 

“There are like thirty Cuban bakeries in the next ten miles. How will you compete?” 

She took a bite of the cupcake. “I don’t have to. I know my pastries are the best. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

He didn’t hesitate to answer as he grabbed a cookie. He devoured it. “Yeah… I feel bad for all the bakeries.” 

She leaned her chin on her hand and watched him happily eat. Her hazel eyes captured the slight sunshine peeking from the trees as she looked to him and the chill of the wind cooled the heat rising on his face. “I hope nothing stops you from reaching your dreams,” he said. “You deserve the universe… a reward for your patience with me.” 

“I thought I was the one giving you the reward.” 

“Yeah… I guess, but honestly, seeing you smile. That’s the real reward. These are just the cherries.” He continued with his cookie as her head tilted back up. 

She blinked, several unbelievable times before she turned her face away and cleared her throat. “I’ll leave you to enjoy your box. Back to tutoring on Wednesday.” She stood up, grabbed her bag, and left. 

Miguel wondered what had happened as a crumble of chocolate hung from the edge of his lips. 

#

“I have to do a book report on any series I want. I need to read at least three books from the same series and report back,” he said to Trish as he handed her the details of the assignment. 

“Good. There are plenty of good series. Which one are you interested in?” 

“Harry Potter.” He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back against his chair. “Lance really loves it, so I figured he could help me if I get lost.” 

“Wait…” She slid to the edge of her seat. “You haven’t read Harry Potter - seriously?! What planet have you been living on?” 

“Why do you seem so offended?”

“Because it is only the best series in existence!” She shouted, standing on her feet and making the librarian shush her. She didn’t care, a stern look glaring at him. 

“Clearly you are a fan.” 

“Who isn’t? Oh wait, apparently you! Oh my god. Gather all your stuff. Let’s go.” She started to hestily clean up the table and shove her things into her bag. 

“Where are we going?” He stumbled to follow her. 

“Your car. You are driving me home and we are going to get my books.” 

He stopped and stared at her. “Wh-what?” 

“Come on! Stop hesitating.” She pressed forward towards the parking lot. 

It didn’t take too long for him to drive them to her place. He kept a foot behind her to be respectful, but she never stopped her vicious pace. Once they were inside, Miguel realized no one was home. The quaint house smelled of food, giving away the fact that the kitchen was the most used room. 

He sat himself in the livingroom on her plastic covered couch, not daring to continue to follow her to her room. He squeaked as he moved in his seat and brushed his fingers through his brown hair sloppy hair. 

He was in Trish’s house and they were alone. 

His heart beat rapidly in his chest and he tried to relive the short moments that led to this. His mind kept trying to tell his heart that this was just part of the tutoring, but his heart hoped there was something more to it. 

She returned with seven books in her hands. She placed six on the table and took the top one when she sat beside him. Opening the book, she looked up to him and raised an eyebrow. “Well… relax and get comfortable.” Her commanding voice moved him to slide and lean back on the chair. She rolled her eyes and yanked his shirt to move him closer to her. He allowed her to drag his heavier set body and adjusted to her comfort. 

“Now listen. You have to hear how you should read Harry Potter. And don’t interrupt.” 

He chuckled lowly and leaned over to see the words as she started reading it aloud. Hours passed as the clock turned to ten o’clock. Miguel found himself spell bounded by the story and her mystical, charming voice. 

#

Miguel looked at the commercial and couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A concert coming to Miami in June - a concert that gave him a chance he couldn’t refuse. 

_ Harry Potter: Orchestra Live. _

This was his chance to ask Trish out. After spending more time with her - especially the Saturday listening to her read the second book aloud outside her patio door - he figured he had all the hints that maybe he could ask her out. 

Maybe she liked him back. 

There were still some scepticism, but he preferred to take her out and try rather than waste this chance to spend time with her. 

He rushed to his parents, begging them to give him the money, but the cost would total over $150 - money they couldn’t just give to him. 

“I will pay you back. Before the concert. I can get a part time job. I promise. Please!” He begged. 

Melly and Henry looked at each other and saw the burning flames in his eyes and smiled to each other. 

“Okay,” said Henry, “we will get the tickets and you earn the money to pay us back. However, no more than five hours of work a week. Your studies come first.” 

“How about ten a week? I promise.” 

Miguel extended his hand and he pleasantly accepted his fathers. He felt his chance - the perfect date for the perfect woman. Now all he had to do was hope she wouldn’t stop the tutoring or come up with a reason to never see him again. 

The hopeless boy finally felt some hope. 

#

The spring formal came and went along with the vacation in which Miguel put in ten extra hours for some money. He had already earned enough to pay his parents, but he needed extra cash.

There were things he needed to make sure he had - a new outfits, cologne - as suggested by Lance - some money for a good dinner, gas money, getting his car some new tires, and a small gift for her. 

He wanted everything about asking Trish to this date to go perfectly. Irresistible was his goal, without coming off too desperate or overbearing. He wanted Trish to like him, truly like him, and not acting nice or sympathetic towards him.

He wanted to offer his heart and open the door to hers.

When she came in for tutoring the Friday after spring break, she sat down with only the sixth book of the Harry Potter series in hand. 

“What’s going on? I finished my book report and I have a history report due next week. We shouldn’t waste it reading… not that sitting around and listening to you read to me is a waste. It’s rather relaxing honestly…” he rambled.

“I know you have a history report, but honestly you don’t need my help anymore. You can do the paper on your own. There is nothing more I can teach you.”

His heart sank. His worst nightmares were coming true and after today she would no longer be his tutor. The tortured thought blinded his logical thinking. He stood and and slung over his backpack, mindlessly speaking. “Yeah… I guess. You've been a wonderful tutor and I learned a lot. Thanks for your time.” He bowed, immediately thinking afterward how foolish he must have appeared.

To his surprise, she grabbed his forearm as he began to turn away. “Where are you going?”

“You - you said you were done…”

“Yeah I am, but that doesn’t mean we can’t hang out. I’ve grown used to reading to you and at this point we have to finish the series.”

He tilted his head, but didn’t speak.

She rolled her eyes and stood up. “Honestly, McClain, I can’t figure you out. Come on, we can go to your place today. I expect to see your report on Monday for review, but today we can go read the book.”

“I - um - okay…” He watched as she started to lead the way out and when she glanced back ready to drag him along, he smiled and realized that there was a spark in her eyes. A glisten of something.

A thread of hope.

#

Even though the high school dance was approaching, Miguel refused to ask Trish to it. He’d been so determined to take her to the orchestra, there was no point in ruining his plans. Instead he made it very clear he would be going with his friend to play the jazz band and would be occupied with his duties.

“Oh…” She blew out a puff of air and clenched the book against her chest. “I mean that makes sense.”

“What are your plans?” he asked.

“I guess now I can ask Natalie to come with me. Another girl night.” Trish tapped her fingernails repeatedly on the book and cleared her throat. “Since my original plans seems to have fallen through.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What plans?”

“No - nothing. It doesn’t matter.” She waved her hand and pulled out a copy of Percy Jackson and the Olympian: The Lightning Thief. She’d suggested they start a new series, much to his surprise.

“Okay…” He leaned back against the squeaking couch of her living room and tried to relax, but the tension radiating from her drove him a little insane. “I think I should go. You don’t look well.” He reached his hand over to feel her forehead, but she stopped him and pulled it down, capturing his gaze. 

“I’m fine,” she said pointedly, “Just…” She paused, sighing as she let go of him and leaned back and opened the book. 

Her eyes had painted a picture, one that took Miguel one second to see, but billions of fragmented thoughts to process. His mind always processed things slower than the average person, but this wasn’t like a math problem or verbal directions. This was reading the heart of Trish - capturing the truth behind her words. 

“Hey…” He dared to speak, softly and carefully. “What are you doing June 28?” 

Words escaped her, but her actions gave away her answer. She leaped across the couch and hugged him, squeezing him as she squealed with an ear piercing screech. 

“I didn’t even say anything?” he asked, perplexed and bashfully. 

“I already know what’s coming that day… I will totally go with you.” She squeezed him even harder. He relaxed and slowly returned the hug. 

For once he understood how magic felt.

#

The school year ended and Trish frequently mentioned how excited she was for the orchestra. He kept hinting that she should dress nice and that he would pay for her dinner as a thank you for all the tutoring - and the first year he successfully finished with a report card without a D or F in sight - he even scored an A in English. 

He tried his hardest to make sure she didn’t think it was a date, even though he desperately wished he hadn’t made that decision. His heart yearned to be honest with her and after the last year of school, he never figured he’d still be afraid of her. 

When he saw her step out of her house, dressed in a homemade Harry Potter themed burgundy dress styled to the 1950’s, the fear intensified. He carefully watched her approach and noticed a new addition to her face. 

She slipped into the car and immediately adjusted her glasses. “Hi,” she bashfully said. 

“Hey… you look beautiful.” His face flushed red along with the sunset painted sky. 

“You think? My mother worked hard on this dress and now its all ruined ‘cause of my glasses.” 

“What?” he shouted, sounding insulted, “I think they complete the look. Honestly, you look great in glasses. I didn’t know you needed them.” 

“I ran out of contacts,” she confessed, adjusting the glasses once again. 

He shrugged his shoulders and started the car. “Well, not that my opinion counts, but I like your eyes more with the glasses. They glimmer even more.” He drove off, not bothering to look at her reaction, missing the astonished look on her face before she bit her bottom lip and looked out the window. 

Even though they were both dressed semi-formal, Miguel took her to a local Cuban restaurant known for their pastries. The dinner went simple enough - both never leaving a moment a silence, too engaged in conversation. 

It felt easy - natural without any awkwardness. 

To Trish’s delight, Miguel quickly stated her pastries were better and that he rightfully dreamed about them often. 

Afterward, they drove to the opera house in downtown Miami. He paid for valet and took out the tickets to hand over to her. She gleefully took them and skipped nearly the whole way from the entrance, to the gift booths, and to their seats. The bouncing of her knees remained even when the show started and her heartbeat with the rhythm of the music. 

She felt as if in heaven and her joy made Miguel feel the same. 

When it was all over, Miguel escorted her to the gift booth and asked her to get whatever she wanted. “How about matching house shirts?” she suggested. 

“Matching?” he asked perplexed. 

“I’m not the only one leaving here with a souvenir. We both need a gift to remember our first date.” 

He nearly fainted. 

“I - I…” 

She jostled his arm and smiled. “Don’t correct me. This is a date. Not some nice act of kindness for tutoring you… a date.” 

He smiled widely and nodded his head. “Yeah… okay.” He walked over to the counter and ordered the shirts. “One Hufflepuff for me and one Gryffindor for the lady.” 

As he waited to pay, she stepped beside him and took his hand. “I never thought I’d date a Hufflepuff,” she replied with a joking face of disgust. 

He didn’t reply, not wanting to admit out loud that he’d never thought they would actually be dating and for once he was happy to be wrong. 

#

Miguel parked the car at the locked gates of Tropical Park and took Trish’s hand. They snuck over the gate and walked over to a large hill in the middle of a field. He knew no one was going to drive by, he’d snuck in to the same spot many times before and there was no way this time was going to be any different.

Once they reached the top, he pulled of a sheet he had tucked under his other arm and guided her to sit down. Once he sat down, she pulled his arm and yanked him closer.

“Thank you… that was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, enjoying the softness of his shirt and the strength of his arm holding her steady. 

“It’s nothing. I figured you’d enjoy it.”

“Yeah - but that’s not why I’m thanking you.”

He raised an eyebrow and looked down to her. “Then for what?”

“For the months of work you did in order to afford the tickets… Nat told me.”

He puffed up his cheeks and looked away from her. “Of course she did. You weren’t supposed to know.”

“And why is that?”

“It makes me look desperate. I just - I wanted to respect your wishes. I never wanted to like drag you down or make it seem like you had no other option. I wanted you to want to come because you liked me back - not because you felt sorry that I did all of that just to get one date.”

Trish looked up and rested her chin on his shoulder. “I would have said yes months ago. You didn’t wear me down because you were being insistent. I’ve been curious about you for a long time. Ever since you risked protecting Stewart. I’ve never seen anyone do that before. Just not consider a consequence to save someone and when you came back from suspension, you moved on with your life and never said anything about it. It was so heroic… you did it just because he was different…”

“He’s not different,” he interrupted, “he’s normal. Everyone is normal in their own right. It’s those who choose to see it as different who are wrong. We are all the same. People who just want to get by this life we’ve been given. Do what we think we need to do and if we’re lucky we’ll have good people around us, good experiences, good chances at happiness and if we don’t, the rest of us need to stand in order to protect them. We have to make what we can with life. And I’ve always felt my life has been to seek the good - in me and in others.”

Her eyes sparkled along with the stars above her. Her hand squeezed against his arm as she pulled herself upward for her lips closer to his cheek, but she stopped, instead whispering in his ear. “What does that make me in all of this?”

He smiled and pulled out his iPod and earbuds. He clicked through the wheel and located the song. Without saying anything else, he handed her one half earbuds. She took it and slipped it into her ear. “You - you’re the only thing that is different. I can never bring you any good. You’re good all on your own. Which is why all I can ever do is hope that maybe you are my chance to finally feel good. To feel happiness. I’m taking a chance that you will be a good experience - maybe a life long one.”

“I’m only sixteen. How can you even say something like that?”

“Because…” he slipped his arm away from her and laid in his back. “I’m hopeless.” He clicked play and closed his eyes as the song began. 

A piano played and Elton Jones’ voice began to sing. She knew the song - she knew it rather well in fact. She’d heard him playing it during lunch when his jazz band, but this instead of playing the saxophone, he hummed to the song until it reached it chorus. Keeping his eyes closed, he said, “‘I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words… how wonderful life is while you’re in the world…’”

She couldn’t resist herself any longer and hovered over him. She used her lips to shut him up as the song continued to play. His eyes shot open as her soft lips sweetly pressed against his. 

When she laid her body along his, he took the hint to not resist. His arms wrapped around her as her delicate hands smelling of sugar touched his cheeks. 

They kept it simple, not too much movement or aggression - only sweet and sentimental and that’s all he needed. 

This experience, this chance, this hope - all he needed was her.

 

* * *

 

**Fun Facts About The Fic:**

1) Southwest Miami Senior High school is my actual high school I graduated from.

2) Trish's pens in her hair is based on me - now and in high school. I always have pens in my hair while working. The most I had was 12 color pencils. I average 4 now and 8 in high school. lol

3) Miguel's struggles with learning are due to his learning disability - specifically memorization and reading processing - the exact same learning disability I have. I have been wanting to show a small inside into my learning disability for some time and it was fun using Miguel for this platform <3

4) In case you do not know, Best Buddies is a real organization that have clubs at schools. Its where student with no disabilities or average students partner up with student's who have sever disabilities like intellectual disabilities and become friends and hang out. LEARN MORE! Its a cause near to my heart <3 [Best Buddies International](https://www.bestbuddies.org/)

5) Have you noticed my education language coming through? lol

6) Confession (I've never read Harry Potter) so I am just like Miguel. lmao

7) Tropical Park is a real park in Miami. 

8) How often did you notice the foreshadowing to his personality that will lead to his death... in the end, Miguel would do anything to protect those he loves - this theme will continue to the second part. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How adorable are they? 
> 
> The second half will showcase their relationship and everything that happens with becoming pregnant with Ginny - get ready for some fluff and underlying angst! Plus Lance coming to high school!
> 
> And maybe an appearance from Keith? ;) 
> 
> I will update it the moment its ready! Please leave comments and kudos! I love you all!  
> Happy Birthday, Ginny! (And to me and Vulpes too. lol)
> 
>  
> 
> **Betas:**  
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	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is part 2 of Miguel's story - I recommend you get the tissues (and have fun spotting all the foreshadowing to LC). 
> 
> This story was a thrill to write. Finally exploring Miguel and giving him life meant everything. I poured a lot into this, more than I thought I would - but as is the story of Lion's Chain - nothing for these characters is ever short. 
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> Enjoy - Luna

#  Part 2

 

Miguel woke up the next day with the biggest smile on his face. He didn’t care that all four of his siblings were hovering over him curious to know about his date.

“Do you think he’s dreaming a happy ending?” asked Ricardo.

“No way,” replied Natalie. “If it went bad, he would be miserable. Plus, she does actually like him.”

“That’s a relief,” said Lance. “Last thing I want is a crying Miguel every night.”

“Seriously?!” Miguel took his pillow from under him and smacked it across Lance’s cheek. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

Lance stumbled down to the floor and rubbed his head. “Seriously! I like sleep!”

Natalie waved her arm to make Miguel focus on her. She snapped her fingers near his face. “Come on! Spill! Did it work?!”

His memories focused back on his evening with Trish. A smile slowly crept up his face and his cheeks flushed red remembering the final kiss in his car as he dropped her off. “Yeah… it was perfect.”

The McClain siblings cheered, but their shouts turned to a muffled sound. All Miguel could think about was when he would be able to see her again.

#

That afternoon, he got a call from Trish asking if he was free later that night. He asked his parents if he could skip dinner and their only reply was, “Be safe.”

He rolled his eyes at the warning, knowing fully well he wasn’t going to be that type of guy. If there was one thing Miguel took to heart it was “happy wife, happy life.” Even though Trish wasn’t even his girlfriend - yet - he knew the philosophy simply meant making sure his partner was respected and happy and in return he would feel less hopeless.

He told Lance to not lock the door to their bedroom again so he could get to bed with ease as he was leaving the house.

When he arrived at Trish’s home, he mentally prepared to be respectful to her parents and introduce himself appropriately. Parents were by far the worst, especially if Trish’s personality was any indication of how scary they might be. 

He made his way to the door and stood tall and straight. When Trish opened the door, he didn’t relax, which caused her to yank at his shirt and plant a slightly painful, but luxurious kiss.

“Hey - whoo…” he said between his pressed lips.

“Just shut up and get in.” She pulled him in and then pushed him to the couch. A quick glance around him made him realize that once again she was alone.

“Do your parents even live here?”

She shook her head and stood behind him. “Yeah, but they both work night shifts. We eat dinner together and then they go to work. I see them again for breakfast and the weekends.”

“Oh… must be pretty lonely.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” She looped her finger into his collar and tugged him to the couch, forcing him to sit.

She didn’t waste too much time, leaneing beside him and gently coursing his neck with her finger and returning to the kiss she had started.

Miguel accepted her very,  _ very  _  generous offer of her lips, but respectfully pushed her slowly by the shoulders. “Are - are you sure you want to do that? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have been wanting to kiss you for a really,  _ really  _ long time, but I don’t want to move too fast if you’re not ready.”

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “I have been waiting for you to ask me out for months. Why else would I have continued reading to you even though it has nothing to do with school?”

He innocently shrugged his shoulders. “I thought you were being nice…”

“I wanted to spend time with you, you dummy!” She shoved his shoulder and grunted. “I - I had a crush on you ever since your fight with Joshua. I’ve noticed you, how you are with people. How big of a heart you have. Hell, the way Nat talked you up!”

Miguel made a mental note to give Natalie a large hug once he was home.

She continued, “You’re not like the other guys I’ve dated. You’re patient, sweet, adorable. And you already make me feel as if I can trust you won’t stop me from reaching my own dreams. That alone means everything to me.” She took his hands and cupped them. “I don’t need a second date to know I want to be your girlfriend.”

Miguel softened his shoulders and scooted closer to her. He removed his right hand from her hold and placed it against her cheek. “So this is more like date number thirty, I guess?”

She laughed. “Yeah… exactly.”

“Then I owe you some kissing. Is that what I’m hearing?” 

She replied by pulling him in and leaned against him, starting the frenzy of kissing once again. 

That night he didn’t come home until midnight.

#

Summer zoomed by far too quickly for Miguel’s liking, but every second was worth wasting away until school started again on August tenth. For one, Trish turned out to be a far more  _ active _ girlfriend than he expected.

She seemed so innocent, but the many nights he came over to her house to lock lips made him see a whole new side to her - a side he very happily enjoyed.

Even more so when she started to initiate  _ other _ far more physical activities. 

His mind always felt dazed and dreaming whenever he wasn’t with her. Everything felt like it progressed too quickly, but he was in on the ride as long as she kept leading the train. Which led to the first day of school - a new year and his final one.

A senior. 

He couldn’t believe that he was a _senior_ in high school. Even more so, he wasn’t repeating a single class. Best of all, he had Trish to thank for it all and he couldn’t wait to spend his last year of high school with her by his side. 

To get things started right, he bought her favorite cafe con leche and a piece of toasted Cuban bread with butter from the one bakery she considered “Closest to my own baking.”

When he pulled up to her house, she slipped into his car and took her seat beside him. They kissed quickly, but then it turned into another and another.

“Ahem,” said Lance in the backseat, sporting the best outfit he had in his closet with his newer slightly longer hair purposefully messy as if he had just woken up. “Can you do me a favor and remember I’m back here?”

Miguel grumbled and slowly pulled his lips apart from Trish. “Did I forget to mention I’m taking Lance to school everyday?” 

Trish giggled and buckled in. “It’s fine. Nat told me you lost the bet.”

Lance bit into his meat pastry and pouted. “I feel so loved.”

Miguel switched gears and backed into the street. “You know I love you - just wish I could have a morning alone with my lady, since we won’t be having any classes together.”

“A positive change,” Trish chimed in.

“You guys spent nearly every second of summer together. Detaching is needed,” Lance replied, rolling his eyes.

Miguel slouched in his chair and huffed out - he didn’t realize just how little of his summer involved his siblings. Luckily for him, Trish changed the subject. 

“Are you excited to go to high school?” 

“Hell yeah!” boomed Lance, leaning forward too quickly and getting his seatbelt locked against his chest. He paid little mind to it. “I have it all planned out.” He clicked his tongue and pointed a finger gun towards Trish.

She laughed. Miguel shook his head. 

“I’ve gone over this with you. High school isn’t like the TV shows and movies. You have to actually do school work,” he added.

“I know that!” shouted Lance. “That’s what I’m excited about! I got accepted into the art academy at school so I’ll mainly be working on my art.  _ Mamí  _ and  _ papi  _ already agreed to make my Christmas gift an old school film camera for my second semester traditional photography class.”

Trish sat up in her seat and slowly turned her gaze to Miguel. “Were you the only McClain not motivated to do well in school?”

He shoved her playfully in response. “Lance has always been an artist. When he heard there was an art academy, he upped his grades in school to get in.”

“I repeat my statement,” she replied with a giggle.

He rolled his eyes and tried to not say anything in return. Lance continued. “Anyway… I just want to get started with school. Maybe make a few more friends and really dive into my work.” 

“I’d love to see it,” said Trish. 

Lance’s eyes beamed. “Hell yeah! I’ll show you some later, maybe after school?” 

Miguel grumbled, having hoped that Nat would take Lance with her, but he knew better - with school, Lance was going to always be his plus one. 

“After school would be perfect,” she replied with a smile. 

“Hey! Hey!” Miguel joked. “She’s already a taken woman. Keep your flirtatious ways away from her.” 

Lance laughed and leaned back in his seat. “No offense, but you’re not my type. Def more Miguel’s.” 

“None taken. I think I prefer it that way,” she replied. 

Miguel raised an eyebrow and looked over to Lance from the rear view window. “Have you figured out your type, by the way? We haven’t had an updated discussion.”

Lance clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth and concentrated his eyes on the crumbs all over his navy blue pants. “Maybe…”

“And?” Miguel tried to be coy, but the question held more weight than he expected.

Lance looked over to Trish, keeping his mouth shut. Miguel added, “I promise this stays in the car.”

He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. With a heavy breath he replied. “Both. My type is for sure both.”

Trish looked between Miguel and Lance, face showcasing how lost she was in the conversation. “What do you mean by both?”

Lance cracked his neck by rolling it back and then leaned to the edge of his seat in order to get closer to Trish. He held out his hand with his pinkie pointing up. “I need a promise. No telling anyone. Especially not Nat - not yet. I want to say it in my time.”

She hesitated, but eventually locked her pinkie with his. He then added, “I’m - I’m…” He paused, trying to force the words out. Miguel waved his hand, nudging him to finish the sentence. “I’m bi.” He exhaled out of his mouth, releasing the tension from his shoulders.

“That’s the first time you say it out loud, huh?” asked Miguel.

Lance pulled away from Trish and rested his back on the seat. He looked up to the roof of the car. “Yep… and I didn’t explode.”

Miguel laughed and turned to Trish. “I guess that makes you his best friend now. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Nope.” She smiled and placed her hands happily on her lap. “I think Lance and I are going to get along just fine.”

Lance raised an eyebrow and looked over to the front seat. His eyes darted between his brother and Trish as a smile slowly crept up his face. “High school is gonna be awesome.”

#

Miguel couldn’t figure out how on earth he ended up in his fourth period class. He looked back at his schedule several times before giving into walking through the camouflage painted doors sitting beside a mural of the US Army and decorated in dirty colored netting and posters about the different branches of the military. 

He didn’t remember signing up for JROTC, so it had to be a mistake. 

However, there was no point in trying to fix it now. There would be a future time to ask for a schedule change. For now, he would step in and find the one empty seat at the front. He damned himself for taking so long to walk into class. 

When the bell rang, the teacher - or more, drill sergeant - stood at the front and started describing what the class was about. All Miguel heard was running, drills, marching, and the hot sun of Miami. He already hated every second of this class and made a mental note to see if he could double some band time. 

Nearing the end, the sergeant passed around the syllabus and gave everyone some time to read over the packet. Miguel flipped through the pages and stopped at the section where it mentioned the uniform. The image caught his attention, detailing how his hair needed to be cut, the cleanliness of the mint and forest green clothing, and how to place their ranking markers on the collar or shoulder. He imagined how he would look in it and didn’t completely hate what his mind saw. 

He continued reading, learning about how only two days of the week would be dedicated to physical activity while two were for learning about the US government and military and one day dedicated to helping around the campus - each week highlighting an act of valor. It tugged at Miguel’s heart knowing he could have a class where helping others was worth a grade. 

It could become the easiest grade he would ever earned. 

Finally, he found the class mission statement on the last page:  _ We are dedicated to making strong young men and women who are willing to fight for what is right, good, and just. To craft young adults into wanting to thrive in the greatness of themselves and to inspire others. In the JROTC, we strive to be the best.  _

With those words Miguel reconsidered switching out of the class and decided one semester wouldn’t hurt.

#

“I think you would look cute in the JROTC uniform. Would force you to iron your clothes every so often,” commented Trish as she slid beside him on the patio bench and took his hand once they were comfortable.

Miguel’s jazz bandmates sat around him, already knowing the news that they were a couple and barely ever separated when they could. 

“What are you going to do about rehearsal days?” asked Melissa.

“We can change out of uniform for other classes as long as we change back to uniform afterward,” he replied, taking a large bite of his pizza.

Stewart spoke, “It's gonna be weird seeing you cut your hair. I can’t remember the last time it was shorter than touching your neck.”

Miguel shrugged his shoulders and concentrated more on his food. “I could use a new look. Senior year and all.”

Alexander shook his head. “You’re gonna abandon us. Watch. Today rings in the death of Miguel! We will honor you by playing ‘Careless Whisper’ at your funeral.”

Miguel couldn’t help, but burst into laughter. “I’m not gonna die, although awesome choice for my funeral. A classic.”

“Seriously?” asked Trish “That is not an appropriate song.”

“What about Miguel tells you he would want to be honored in any traditional sense?” replied Stacy.

Trish shook her head, but didn’t say anything.

“I’m not dead,” continued Miguel, “just trying something new. Last chance to do it, right?”

The group shook their head before the bell rang for next period. As they shuffled to get their belongings, Miguel saw Lance running over to him with a folder half his size. He waited for his younger brother to catch up, noting the new charcoal marks all over his clothing, face, and hands.

“How are you this dirty on day one?” he asked.

Lance waved his hand in front of Miguel and shushed him. “Not important. What I do want to ask you is if your going to stay after school today.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. Nothing really starts until next week.”

Lance pouted his lips. “Damn. I got asked to hang out for a drawing circle.”

“Then do it,” he said without hesitating. “If you wanna meet new people, go for it. I can hang around campus for an hour or two.”

Trish swatted her hand over his stomach. He rubbed it and tried to smile innocently. “Sorry… I - I wasn’t thinking…” 

Trish cocked her lips and crossed her arms. “I guess I’ll get a ride with Nat. I don’t wanna be the blocker.”

“Wait - What? No, stay with me here!” he begged.

“I can’t, big bear!” 

Lance nearly toppled over in laughter, but instead but his lips and whispered, “Big bear?”

“Shut up!” Miguel replied in warning. “And why can’t you?”

“I have a cake to make for tomorrow. Mrs. Mesa asked me to make an example of buttercream decor for her freshman class.”

His eyes beamed with pride for her and gloomed over with sadness that their day has already been cut short. He already missed summer.

“Fine. I understand.” He leaned down to nab a kiss from Trish and gave Lance instructions on where to meet afterward.

They all went their separate ways and it became abundantly clear that his senior year was going to be busy and nothing like the freedom he was forced to give up.

#

August seemed to fly even quicker than the summer, but unlike June and July, there was far less Trish and a lot more Lance.

He didn’t mind spending more time with his brother. On the contrary, he loved having Lance finally at his school. The one year they would be able to be together on campus and finally have his most trusted person somewhere close, but with the addition of Trish in his life, it sometimes sucked the fun of his day to day playing by Lance’s schedule.

He had completely forgotten how it was to ride on Lance’s coattail. 

He was an artist and Miguel was still hopeless.

At least this time he could say he was hopeless, but passing all his classes, including JROTC. Due to his after school appointments daily waiting for Lance, Miguel figured it was time he did something outside of jazz band. He didn’t have to be tutored by Trish - for the most part anyway - and band only met twice a week. 

Why not join the drill team for basic practice? It was a little like his marching band days except he wasn’t required to learn a different instrument - which was the reason he left the marching band and joined jazz instead. Plus, he got the ever important working out his parents were always hounding him about. 

It also helped he started to think about the little nickname Trish had given him - Big Bear. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to be a little less round in the gut bear and more a tough defender bear.

She’d never given any indication that his body had been in anyway vile or discouraging. In fact, she very much showed, often, how much she appreciated his body, but it gave Miguel a small tickle of motivation to try and at least get healthier. 

Stamina is a useful tool, afterall.

Since the second week of school, Miguel secretly joined the drill team, marching along the field, learning how to follow commands, and, much to his own surprise, run laps.

Without even trying further, he’d lost five pounds by September first. A small feat he never thought he’d accomplish. 

With the upcoming long weekend, he was asked to participate in a special drill practice Monday of Labor’s Day. He wanted to stay desperately, especially when his sergeant hinted that he could possibly be promoted in ranking if he did, but he couldn’t skip out on the Disney weekend his family had planned. 

_ Unless… _

After all his siblings went to bed, he requested a private meeting with his parents. “ _ Mamí. Papi. _ I have a special request and I want you to take me serious.”

“Miguel…” Henry started to speak, “I know you love this girl, but you don’t have to get married so young. You can have a long relationship…”

“What?” He sat back flabbergasted. “No! No! I’m not gonna ask Trish to marry me.  _ Dios, _ what do you think of me?”

“Well,” Melly replied, “you seem to be in love with her and you’re not one to request to speak with us alone, so we assumed.”

“Seriously? You both need to calm down. Trish and I are doing fine and this has nothing to do with her…” He paused as a word his mother had spoken repeated in his mind.

_ Love. _

He hadn’t even thought of the word associated with Trish - at least not in its full and explicit definition - yet spoken out loud it sparked a joy in his chest. One he knew he’d never felt before, but came naturally when attached to her. 

Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He loved her - his parents were completely aware of his affection for her before he even realized it for himself. How could he be so blind, so oblivious, and careless? How could he continue to prove his own hopelessness?

Regardless of the truth that slammed into his mind, he had another matter to discuss. Shaking his head, he refocused and returned to his original topic. “I have a huge favor to ask. You know I love our annual trip to Disney, but… I would like to skip it this year.” His parents were about to speak up, but he pressed forward to continue. “I know! I know. You’re wondering why. Well, I’ve been secretly a member of the drill team while Lance has been meeting with his art buddies. I - I think I’m pretty good at it and sergeant said I can get a rank promotion if I attend… I… are you both okay?”

Henry and Melly held each other’s hand, tears swelling in their eyes as they focused on his words. “We are so proud of you,” said Henry.

“I knew this army thing was something special since you always make sure your uniform is well ironed,” added Melly. 

“I just - I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d like it this much, but I do. I like the ethic of it. What they want to accomplish. It just feels…” He stopped. Dug deep into his heart passed the newly defined emotions towards Trish and found something he’d never felt with anything else.

Passion.

He loved the military. He thought about JROTC as much as he thought about Trish. He wanted to learn about everything he could. What could he earn? How far could he go? What special units he could join?

How could he continue this path beyond high school?

He took a deep breath and captured his parents’ eyes. He knew deep down what it all meant. He wasn’t asking permission to participate in a weekend practice. He was telling them his plans for his future.

“It feels right.”

Henry and Melly turned to each other having one of their non-verbal conversations. It felt longer than usual, causing Miguel to sweat as he waited for it to end. His leg jiggled underneath the table as his finger tapped against each other, nearly wrestling against his nerves.

Finally, Henry spoke their answer. “Alright, you may stay the weekend for your practice. However, you have to tell your siblings honestly why you are staying behind  _ and _ you have to invite the whole family whenever you’re doing any kind of event we can attend. Understood?”

He smiled widely, jumped to his feet, and hugged his parents from behind. “Yes, sir…” he whispered as they hugged him back.

For once, Miguel felt like he knew where he was going.

#

With the family gone, Miguel had the rarest occasion happen. He was alone in the house.

He did everything he could think of Saturday afternoon. Pants? Who needs them? Ice cream for lunch? Mom wasn’t there to stop him. Watching Voltron again and again and again? Neither Ricardo or Armando was there to try and snatch back the tv. 

No one was there to stop him.

He walked into Natalie’s room and took back his old record player. Placing it in the living room and connecting it to his father’s stereo, he found the shelf with the dozens of records and located Micheal Jackson’s  _ Thriller _ album. 

He placed it and moved the dial to “Billie Jean.” The beat blasted through the speakers, loving the sound of music coming out of a classic record. He moved his hips carelessly, not having to worry that anyone would tell him to lower the volume or watch where he moved around as he swung his arms and body. 

Miguel only had himself and his music.

As the track moved to “Human Nature,” he heard the door knock. Figuring it was another package for Armando’s LEGO set being delivered, he answered the door and immediately regretted the whole “not wear pants” bit.

“Trish?!” he shouted, confused and hands shooting down to his boxers.

She laughed into her hand and blushed behind her palm. “It’s not like your hiding anything I haven’t seen.”

His face turned beet red. “What are you doing here?”

She held up her bag and smiled. “I’m sleeping over with Nat.”

He raised an eyebrow and tried to calm himself. “Nat is at Disney. I thought you knew that.”

She pushed the bag against Miguel’s chest and shoved him back. “Yep. But my parents don’t know that.” She walked passed him and entered the empty house, bopping her head the moment she heard the music. 

Confused, yet putting the pieces together, he slowly closed the door behind him and dropped her bag to the floor. “Are you inviting yourself for a sleepover?”

“Yep.” 

“You lied to your parents to stay over?”

“Half lied. I’m at the same house I said I would be. I just said I’d be sleeping over with Nat - not my boyfriend. They would never allow it. Especially knowing he had the house to himself.” She jumped backwards to land on the couch, kicking off her shoes, and closing her eyes to immerse herself in the music.

Miguel rubbed the back of his neck and hovered over Trish. “I never thought you’d break the rules.”

“I never thought you’d become a soldier brat. We all can be a bit surprising at times.” She raised her arms upward, signaling him to get closer. 

He laughed, bent down, and popped a quick kiss before moving away from her towards the record machine. She leaned up against her elbows and huffed out. “Seriously?”

“If you’re gonna sleep over, we don’t need to rush.” He winked at her before flipping through the albums.

She grinned to the side and adjusted her glasses before standing up and walking over to her bag, grabbing a pair of shorts. She made herself comfortable, walking around the house as if she lived there. Her casualness captivated Miguel. Thoughts rushed through his mind like how natural it felt to have her near, letting her go about her business as if they lived together. When she came up to him, leaning her chest against his back, and cuddled him from behind.

“You look good in shorts,” he commented.

“You said I look good always,” she replied and kissed the back of his neck.

“I don’t tell lies.” He shimmied his shoulders before returning his attention to the records. He pulled out the George Michael album. 

Placing the record and putting the needle on the song, Trish looked over and grunted. “Seriously? You are not playing George Michael.”

“‘Careless Whisper’ to be exact.” 

“Ugh! I really hate that song!” 

He stopped before playing it. “What do you mean you don’t like ‘Careless Whisper?!’” Miguel shouted as he turned around within her arms.

“I’m judging you for having one of these.” She laughed, pointing at the record player and the other 80’s records.

Miguel shook his head and turned back to the player and albums. “The eighties had the best music. From power ballads to perfect pop tunes. Nothing beats the music of the era.”

“I can make an argument for grunge,” Trish adjusted herself against his back and leaned over like a koala hugging a tree. 

He pushed play. The cheesy saxophone blasted in her ear and the lyrics of the song caused her eyes to roll.

“Don’t do that,” Miguel said. “This song is so romantic.”

“Romantic!” Trish cried without trying to laugh in his face. “He’s talking about having broken someone’s heart.”

“Yeah but that rhythm. The cords of the song and that saxophone… that’s just beautiful.”

“You only like it ‘cause that’s the instrument you play.”

He leaned closer to her and laughed. “Fine. You caught me, but trust me. One day I’m going to make it so whenever you hear this song, you’ll always understand how it’s the most romantic of all.”

“Oh yeah? How?” She teased, gripping her arms around his shirt and pulling closer.

In one swift movement, Miguel stood up, held her on his back, until he made it to the couch and dropped her down. He turned to her and leaned down, finally nearing their lips, but still teasing by not kissing. “I don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out.”

“You’re never going to change my mind.” She bit the bottom of her lips and curled her toes while she pulled closer to him, begging without words.

“You’re the worst.”

“Am I?”

“If I knew you were going to be this tempting, I would have second guessed falling for you.”

Trish’s eyes shot open. “Falling?”

Unlike the many times he thought over how he would say it, the nerves that normally plagued him disappeared. Simply teasing at his emotions already gave him the courage to say it. No pause. No hesitation. Only confidence and yearning. “Yeah. I love you. No other way to say it.”

She exhaled warmly and broke the tension built between their lips. Her fingers curled against the back of his head, missing the longer hair he once had. 

She didn’t need to say it. The arch of her back towards him, the lack of breaths between kisses, and the grip of her hands as they moved down his back said it all.

She loved him. No pause. No hesitation. And he felt her say it through her actions.

The record kept playing in the background, forcing Trish to listen to the album at least twice while diving into the passion of Miguel’s love. They took it slow - the newly earned stamina coming into play - and enjoyed the night of peace alone and on the couch of the McClain residence. 

Unfortunately for them, neither bothered to check the expiration date on the box of condoms they used that night. 

#

Miguel walked over to the patio in full uniform. He had finished his lunch meeting with Best Buddies and had fifteen minutes to meet with Trish and his bandmates. 

Somehow he roped himself into doing the Special Olympic training, but figured his sergeant would allow him to use that as his volunteer hours for JROTC. He thought his senior year would be watching Lance become one with himself and cheering for Trish when it was time for competition. 

Instead he was the one with the busy schedule.

Trish found him walking out and grabbed his hand to take a few minutes to speak privately. Her fingers tapped against his as she spoke, “Question. Why don’t we ever hang out with your friends? You’re always willing to spend time with mine, but I never get to hang out with yours.”

“Yes you do. We hang out at lunch all the time.”

“No! No! I mean outside of school.”

Miguel puckered his lips. “Because we don’t hang out outside of school. Just never really did.”

“Oh… um, why?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I was never interested. Never attended anything and eventually wasn’t invited to things. Never bothered me. I prefer to spend time at home.”

“Do you even have like a best friend?”

Miguel poundered it for a minute. “I mean, it’s Lance. I love all my sibs the same, but since Lance and I share a room, we’re a little closer I think.”

“But he’s your brother.”

“My brother can be my best friend.”

Trish shook her head. “No one outside the family?”

He leaned his face closer to hers. “You.”

She smirked to the side and glared at him. “I’m your girlfriend. I don’t count.”

“Yes you do! Who doesn’t want to be with their best friend?”

She slapped him lightly with her hand. “Oh come on! You know I mean like a true best friend! Like Nat is for me!”

He sighed. “Look. I don’t have one. Never on the cards. I’m a bit homegrown and prefer to be with family. Sue me.”

“So you’ve never had a best friend. Ever?”

“If I’m not allowed to count you or Lance, then no. Never had one.”

“Oh big bear. You’re so deprived.”

He shook his head. “Nope. With you beside me, I’m blessed.” 

#

Lance sat beside Miguel on the patio bench of his school. The October sky was bright and blue, yet no breeze of fall or a new coming cooler air. So was the temperature of Miami all year round. His finger fidgeted as he kept looking around. 

Miguel took on his worries. “Alright. Spill. What’s going on?”

Lance looked around to make sure they were alone, but the nearly empty school gave them the privacy to speak freely. “I - I kissed someone yesterday and I was hoping he would show up for drawing circle.”

“He?” Miguel grinned and patted Lance’s back. 

Lance smiled, turning his blushing face away. “Yeah. It kind of just happened. It felt good.”

“I’m glad to hear. Kissing is fun.” Miguel let out a proud chuckle.

Lance’s eyes lingered in Miguel. “You really like her, huh?” 

“Nope. I love her. I can’t believe it anytime I say it, but I do.”

“Don’t you think that’s kind of fast? It’s only been like… three months?”

Miguel shrugged his shoulders. “Four months on the twenty-eighth. And maybe… but I can’t help how I feel. She loves me back, so that’s all that matters.”

Lance’s eyes wandered away, losing them to the landscape of the school campus and keeping a silence that Miguel understood. They were both deep in thought, wondering about what their lives had become and what they could be. They often found themselves like this during pivotal times of their life. They didn’t really need to speak, but they understood each other’s thoughts perfectly.

“I want to tell them, but I’m scared.”

“About the guy or just the fact you also like guys.”

“That second part. I’m not sure Luis is someone I’ll be really dating long term.” He laughed. “I’m not sure how  _ mamí _ and  _ papi _ are going to take it. You know how she’s been about  _ tia _ .”

Tia Martha. 

No one ever brought her up. It’s not that they hated her, but more like they didn’t really know her because of the strife between her and Melly. Miguel remember Tia Martha and loved her the moment they met, but he also remember the tension and arguing.

So much arguing.

Why were they arguing? What exactly happened between them? Martha was a lesbian and none of her sibilings approved of it, including Melly.

“What if she kicks me out?” asked Lance.

“She won’t.” Miguel tried to stay confident, but even he didn’t know if his words were true.

“Maybe one of those conversion camps?” Lance visibly shivered.

He frowned harshly. “I won’t let that happen.”

Lance sighed and moved his fingers along his messy hair and pulled it back playing with the tack of the wax before slouching forward and remaining silent.

“Don’t rush. Why not just start with Armando, Ricardo, and Nat? You know they will keep it a secret,” suggested Miguel. 

Lance nodded his head, but didn’t speak.

Miguel wanted more than anything to help Lance. He couldn’t understand how he felt - he couldn’t understand how anyone could hate him for being him. Regardless, he remembered his own mission. He was there to see the good in himself and in others.

He would protect Lance at all costs. He would step forward to be the Voltron within himself.

_ Voltron… _

#

Miguel worried as each second passed waiting outside of Trish’s house within his car. Lance left himself unbuckled in order to lean closer.

“You knock. Maybe she overslept?” he asked.

Trish never overslept. Her determination would never let her do such a thing. He took Lance’s suggestion and stepped out of the car. He knocked on the door and waited patiently.

When the door opened, Olanda, Trish’s mother, greeted him.

“ _ Hola _ ,” he greeted, “is Trish okay?” 

“No,  _ hijo _ , she was sick all night. I thought she called you.”

Miguel’s face saddened quickly. “No. I mean if she’s sick, she could have forgotten. It’s okay. I’ll come by later and bring her some soup.”

“ _ Garcías _ . She would like that.” Olanda reached over and cupped Miguel’s face into her hand like any old caring mother. She never hid her approval and Miguel loved every second of it.

“ _ Adios. _ ” He leaned down to kiss her cheek and returned to the car. “Seems she’s sick.”

“Damn. I thought her pure willpower would never let her get sick,” said Lance.

Miguel chuckled, knowing very well that Trish would fight off a cold with boxing gloves. She hated missing school, so it must be one hell of an illness.

He pulled out of the driveway and went to school without her.

#

That night, Miguel did as he said and brought over some soup from the local market. He rang her doorbell, but there was no answer. Perhaps she was in the bathroom - a stomach bug? 

He waited and then tried again. No response. 

Worried, he went around to the back, finding the secret key to her yard and stopping near her window. “Trish!” he shouted as he knocked on the window.

No response.

He worried more, but decided she was sleeping and would try again the next day. Walking to his car, he hoped everything would be alright and drove back to his house. 

To his surprise, as he pulled up to his own home, Trish was sitting on the porch.

“Hey,” he said as he got out of the car. “My parents would let you in.”

“I know. I said I would wait for you here.”

He sat beside her and placed the soup between her feet. “I was at your place trying to deliver this. Your mom said you were sick.”

With a nauseated look on her face, she turned green and pushed it away with her foot. “Thank you, but I can’t stomach anything right now.”

“Oh? Stomach bug?”

“It’s a little bigger than a bug. Or at least it will be.” She hugged herself and took slow, but deep breaths. Her refusal to make eye contact made him nervous.

“Is everything okay?” 

She shook her head.

“Okay…” He continued, but kept cautious. “What’s going on?”

She cleared her throat. “I - I don’t really know how to say this.”

Miguel leaned down to try and force her to look at him. When their eyes met, he spoke. “You can tell me anything. Regardless of what you say, I’m here for you. Unless you’re breaking up with me. Please don’t, by the way.”

She grinned shyly. “No it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

She bit her lip and snatched his hand. He felt her trembling hands, nervous, trying to find courage. With a whisper, she forced the words out. “I’m pregnant.”

Miguel’s mind shattered. In one second, he tried to scan his memory of when it could have happened. He swore they were always safe. Sure some of his condoms were old and he heard something about not storing them in wallets, but he was positive that couldn’t be the case.

Labor Day weekend - the night the condom broke. 

They thought they would be okay. Barely any got in, right? They thought. How? He was so careful every other time. That one incident couldn’t be it. Right?

“Miguel,” she said, “say something. This is hard enough and I don’t wanna cry again.”

He held her hand closer and slid to put her head on his shoulder. “I - I’m not sure what to say. I’m sorry?”

“You should be.” She rested closely against him, not angry, but seeking comfort.

“So what now?” he asked.

Her body curled against him. “I don’t know.”

They stayed silent, breathing in sync and deep in their own thoughts. Miguel tried to figure out suggestions, but all that came to his mind was Trish. How must she feel? What will happen to her body if she goes through with this? How will this affect her plans? 

“I’ll support you,” he said quietly, kissing her forehead in the process. “In the end this is your decision. Your future. Yeah, I’m part of the mistake, but this is your body.”

Trish pulled closer to him, hugging his arm and closing her eyes. “I’m just so conflicted. I told my mom and dad. They were surprised. I could see the disappointment, but…”

She stopped talking and Miguel replied, “And?”

“And they told me to do whatever I felt I needed. They would support me.”

Miguel bit the inside of his cheek and tried to make sure his words were right. He didn’t want anything to change between him and Trish, but there is no stopping change when it comes to having a baby. “Then what is your decision?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m confused.”

The way her body tugged against him, fingers pulling at his shirt sleeve, body wanting to be hugged and cared for, and her eyes lost, but focusing when she glanced to him. Everything she did begged him to help her. 

Her decision was that she wanted it to be theirs.

“Well maybe this will help. I’ll support you no matter your decision. If we go inside, my parents will beg us to keep it. Give me the Catholic talk about it being a blessing, but I would prefer we don’t until you’ve made up your mind. If we never tell them, we never do. In the end, this is your body. Your timeline and I will be your support no matter what. You want to have the baby, then I will be the best father I can be. Help you raise them forever. If you want to go get an abortion, I’ll drive you to and from the clinic and be there for every step in between. No matter what. I’ll be there.”

Her arms squeezed tighter, but after a minute they relaxed. Her head rested comfortably on his shoulder and then she turned her lips to kiss his cheek. “Would you really be there forever?”

He locked eyes with her, noticing a glint of a tear, but a soft smile on her face. All she needed to hear was his opinion - it became clear to him she had made her decision already, but wanted to see if he would be there.

“Of course. This is my child too and family is the most important thing to me.”

She huffed out a smile and leaned up to kiss him. It was soft - much like their first kiss - only it lingered different. A thank you through a kiss and a dream that in the end it would all work out.

#

“So in conclusion, we are keeping the baby and hope you all will support us,” said Miguel as Trish held tightly to his hand. They were facing Miguel’s parents and all of his siblings sitting in the living room.

The same room the whole mess started.

“Holy shit,” whispered Lance, which led to Henry smacking him across the head for using foul language.

“This is insane,” added Natalie.

Melly and Henry gave no facial indication of their thoughts. They sat back, silent and stern as they stared in what Miguel thought was judgement. He swallowed air and tried not to sweat, but his nerves were not easily hidden.

The other siblings started to stare back and forth between their parents and older brother. Worried and concern for everyone’s safety all over their face. 

“Please say something,” Miguel begged.

Melly took a deep breath and asked, “¿ _ Te vas a casar? _ ”

“No!” They shouted in unison.

Miguel rapidly added, “We are not going to get married. We think we are too young for that.”

“You’re too young to have a baby,” retorted Henry.

Miguel chattered his teeth. “True, but it’s not like we planned this.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed and Miguel’s heart beat out of his chest. Dead. He could feel his life would end right there.

Henry stood up and Melly followed his motions. “You listen here. What you did to this girl is unacceptable. You both were being foolish and weren’t thinking.”

Miguel wanted to point out the many other times they were being safe, but he felt this wasn’t the right time. Now he only had to listen and agree by nodding his head.

“Once you are finished with school, you will find a job and pay rent. We will figure out a place for you both to live together once the baby is born and we will be communicating with Trish’s parents. This is your child. We will not raise it, but we will help you both make sure you get to places in which you can raise it on your own. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Miguel replied, his throat down to his stomach. 

“If you come up with a plan for after high school that relates to getting some kind of education, I will expect you getting a part time job and all of it going towards that child. If you keep at your pace, I will expect you to find full time work.”

“Yes sir.”

“And you will  _ not _ drop out. Neither of you will. This child will not be raised by uneducated parents.”

“Of course,” replied Trish.

“Yes sir,” added Miguel.

“The rest I need to think about. Everyone go to bed.  _ Para mañana. _ ” Henry turned around and walked off with Melly to their room. When the door shut, the siblings finally stood up and rushed to give Miguel and Trish a hug.

“Intense,” said Ricardo.

“I’m surprised I still have my head,” replied Miguel feeling completely numb.

“But I’m gonna have a baby?” asked Armando.

“More like I am,” answered Trish, petting the top of his head. “You’re going to be an uncle.”

“Hell yeah!” said Lance. “I’m gonna be a  _ tio _ . I call dibs on godfather!”

“That’s not how that works,” said Natalie with a laugh, “and don’t be too excited. This is a weird thing.”

“Yeah, but it’s already happening and I’m moving on to the get hyped phase. And that means, I’m going to be a  _ tio _ ,” replied Lance.

Miguel shook his head. His heart still confused about everything and refusing to fully acknowledge what it all meant, but in the end, Lance’s enthusiasm was just what he needed. There was no changing what had already happened. Things were going to move fast and his senior year now meant the complete end of his teens. More so, it finally all clicked in his head.

He was going to be a father.

#

His senior year almost became one giant blur. With Trish being pregnant, he had to make a lot of decisions and changes to his life - fast. 

For one, he felt more determined to do well in class. He couldn’t give any indication of failing. The diploma was in reach and it no longer meant his own accomplishments, but a door to further provide for his new family.

Secondly, he had to make sure to keep on his tight schedule. One thing him and Trish agreed on was that neither of them would give up their passions. Miguel stayed in jazz band and drill team. He also kept his promise of coaching the Special Olympics teams. While Trish kept to her culinary program and preparing for the spring cooking competition. Even though she was pregnant, the school agreed she could stay until the end of April since her due date was determined to be in June. However, that meant she would already be showing by competition, but no rules indicated she couldn’t participate pregnant.

Finally, Miguel has to really start thinking about life after graduation. For a moment, he thought joining the military was going to be it, but now with a baby coming, he couldn’t imagine leaving Trish behind alone - especially since she still had one more year of school.

Work was his only option. College didn’t seem like fun or interesting. Even the community colleges did nothing to spark his interest. Only the recruitment tables at college days tugged at his heart, but he had to keep repeating to himself.

_ Not an option… _

When January rolled around, Trish was already showing, the gossip buzzed all over the school, and neither of them cared. All that mattered was their next appointment and an argument that they were having.

“If it’s a girl, Ginny. If it’s a boy, Snape,” said Trish.

“No way! I am not naming my son Snape!” replied Miguel.

“So you agree with Ginny.”

“It’s better than Snape!”

“How about Sirius?”

“How about something not Harry Potter related?” He turned the car over to the parking lot for the doctor’s office.

“Then you come up with a name!” She demanded.

He thought for a second after turning off the car. “How about Miguel Jr. Would be nice to start like a legacy.”

“A legacy? You’re a little full of yourself.” She laughed and started getting out of the car, already feeling her body shifting and changing with the growing baby.

“Whatever. Just think about it.” He took her hand and escorted her into the office.

After sometime, they were eventually called into the exam room. There were several things they agreed to do. For one, they would go into every appointment with only positive thoughts. Miguel played the role of cheerleader, making sure Trish never felt different from herself or out of her own body. 

She always showed her appreciation through her smile.

Secondly, they agree to not find out the gender of the baby - kind of. Miguel wanted to know. Trish did not. 

So they came to an agreement. He could learn and keep it a secret until the day she popped the baby and today was that very special day.

Miguel kept wanting to skip. Today he would know what child he would be having. All he needed to know was if he was going to call the child his princess or his Akira.

_ Oh Akira would be a good name. _

They entered the sonogram room and nurse started quickly as ever. With patience and wonder, he watched as his child moved around the womb. Small hands and feet moving around. He swear the baby waved.

“I know it waved!” He claimed as Trish laughed.

Once the appointment was over, the nurse passed Miguel a card with the gender inside. Trish refused to let him open it until they were apart.

The moment he made it to his bedroom, he punched Lance’s arm and asked for his attention.

“Ready to find out?” he asked.

Lance darted off the top bunk and sat beside Miguel. “Fuck yeah!”

“Now remember, this is between us. You even let Trish know, I will have to remove godfather status.”

Lance held out his pinkie. “I swear. On my sexuality.”

Miguel laughed, locked pinkies, and then opened the card. In an instant, his world became magic.

#

For whatever reason, Miguel couldn’t seem to figure out just why his senior year felt as if it had disappeared. In a blink, he found himself in the beginning of April having just returned from his spring break.

Unlike previous years, this year it involved a babyshower, setting up a nursery in Trish’s home, figuring out how her old room would become their room, and assisting Lance with coming out to his siblings.

Luckily for him everything - and he meant everything - had gone smoothly. 

As expected, Lance’s coming out was warmly welcomed by his siblings. The nursery was a beautiful and magical paradise for any small child. Most of all, he picked out the perfect bed for him and Trish for once he moved in after graduation.

That became the plan. He would move in with Trish since they had more space and less people, but Melly would be the one to take care of him if Miguel had to work and Trish had to go to school next year. He’d help around the house with some money, especially anything involving the baby. Until Trish graduated, both of their parents would give an allowance to assist with baby needs.

It was so much for him to think about, but it felt refreshing. Just the thought that their child was coming in a few months brought a tingle in his stomach. He never really figured he’d be a father - at least so soon in his life - but the closer they got to the birth date, the more his heart raced with excitement.

Best of all, Trish felt the exact same way.

However, today was a different day as so would all of April. In one month Miguel had Special Olympics, a drill competition, Trish’s leave, and her baking competition. Which is exactly where they found themselves.

She hated having to get a larger chef coat, based on her four hour rant heading north to Orlando. Her stomach was huge - much larger than they expected. Her ankles and feet were consistently swollen, making Miguel on feet massage duty at any moment. She could barely fit into her favorite pair of rubber gloves.

“My body hates me,” she commented as she prepared to enter the main floor within the Orange County Convention Center for her round of cooking.

“It doesn’t hate you,” Miguel said as he massaged her neck and shoulders, “It’s all part of the process. Just like our birthing coach said.”

“She can fuck off with her words.” She growled.

Miguel laughed nervously, trying to remember her hormones were always taking her on random mood swings. 

Lance ran over to them with Trish’s lucky bandana. “Found it!”

She snatched it and started wrapping her braided hair. “Thank god!”

“You nervous?” he asked.

“No way! Determined as ever. I’m gonna win this year for sure.” Her eyes blazed with might as she snapped a clip to hold the bandana in place. 

Miguel nervously laughed again. “Okay, but remember to keep hydrated. Doctor said you’re not drinking enough water.”

“Stupid doctor,” she snapped.

Miguel and Lance took a step back. 

“Alright,” said Lance defensively. “We are all in the stands ready to cheer you on.”

“Good.” Her bluntness was really starting to concern Miguel, but he had to be careful.

“Okay little bear, you go kick some ass and take home that trophy.” He stepped to grab a kiss, but she latched onto his shirt and locked him in for a longer, lustful, and aggressive kiss. 

“Yeah! Now I’m ready,” she said as she pulled back and arrogantly smiled. She released Miguel and walked off to her cooking station.

In his completely lost gaze, he whispered, “I’m gonna marry her someday.”

Lance shook his head and hooked his sleeve into his finger. “Okay  _ big bear _ . Keep it in your pants and let’s get to the stands.”

Miguel dreamingly followed Lance to the stands where Natalie and the rest of the culinary team sat and near Trish’s parents. 

The competition had three levels: cake decorating, freestyle dessert, and a secret dessert challenge. It would take three hours to complete and Miguel worried more that Trish’s body could handle the events with her easily slowed down body, but when he saw her eyes on fire, fingers tapping on the counter, and cocky grin, he knew that she was determined more than ever to knock everyone out.

The judges were introduced and the rules were read aloud, including the prize - a full ride scholarship to Johnson and Wales Culinary Academy after graduation. Trish didn’t need the whole program, already set to be a certified chef along with her high school diploma. However, she desperately wanted to be a certified pastry chef and that scholarship would guarantee it.

The announcer started the competition and stated the surprise challenge was macaroons. The fire only burned brighter in her eyes, cause her whole team and Miguel to shiver in delight. Trish’s macaroons were the best in Miami, hands down. There was no way she wasn’t going to win.

She rushed across her station, taking a notebook and writing everything she needed to do and prepare. Her assistants waited for instruction and once she was ready, she handed them all their tasks. Her team cheered for her with Lance and Miguel being her two loudest cheerleaders.

By the halfway mark, all of her macaroons were complete and boxed, her lava cake was in the oven, and her four tier Harry Potter themed cake was already being decorated. 

Miguel watched in wonder as she worked. Even if her assistants were doing something, she facilitated every step. As she worked on the fondon wizard wand, she suddenly stopped and started taking heavy and deep breaths. Her sudden and drastic slower pace caused Miguel pause as he stood up. Her hand reached around her belly as she groaned in pain.

“Shit,” he said, “her pelvic pain is back.”

“What does that mean?” asked Lance.

“That her pelvic is basically making it hard for her to move.” He tried to get Trish’s attention by shouting. “Get some water, Trish! Stretch! Push past it!” 

Her eyes looked up and she tried desperately to keep moving. The strain across her eyes as she kept going, but as time kept ticking, she started to move slower and sweat poured down her face.

Miguel wished he could jump to her station and embrace her. He couldn’t imagine what she felt, but she always said his hugs made it easier to get through it. He didn’t have that chance. Here she was on her own and all he could do was shout words of encouragement.

As the final thirty minutes ticked, Trish’s face spoke of exhaustion and agony. He wanted to say something, anything that would encourage her. 

There was only one thing. The one thing she had been fighting for since seeing that pregnancy test.

“Trish! Trish!” He shouted. Her eyes darted to him. The pain too hard on her. He continued, “Do it for her! Keep pushing! Do it for Ginny!”

Her eyes widened, gawking at him and speaking. He couldn’t hear her, but he knew what she had said. “Ginny?” She forced herself to stand tall, rubbing the bottom of her belly, and grabbing her tools to finish the chocolate sphere for her freestyle dessert.

“Didn’t she say she didn’t want to know?” asked Lance.

Miguel smiled and watched her whize through the final few minutes. When the time was called, Trish nearly fell to the ground, but kept up out of complete spite and motherly drive.

The judging took another hour, but she was the clear winner. Her four tier cake dressed as Hogwarts with Harry, Ron, and Hermione flying around in the broomsticks, a perfect box of four different flavored macaroons, and cookies and cream lava cake hidden within a Golden Snitch chocolate sphere that melted away once a Butterbeer caramel was poured over it.

Show stopping and the winner for first place.

Once allowed, Miguel ran to Trish. They kissed, heavy and proud, as everyone else made their way over. Wanting to state how happy he was of her, how badly he wanted to eat that lava cake, and looking forward to being her taste tester when she entered the culinary school, he was stopped by her first set of words to him.

“So she’s a girl? We are having Ginny?” Her eyes glittered with tears. Even with a gold metal hanging from her neck and a certification for the scholarship in her hand, all she cared about were Miguel’s words. 

He laughed at her silliness and wrapped his arms around her, resting his lips on her sweaty forehead. “Yep. The little wizard Ginny is going to be our daughter.”

She smiled brilliantly and leaned her tired head on his chest. “Her name maybe Ginny, but she’s not a wizard.”

“Oh?” 

“She’s the princess of Altea.” 

He closed his eyes and laughed. In the end, that little girl was the best of both of them.

#

Miguel smiled as he hung his gold metal beside Trish’s. He’d worked hard on drill team and that morning he earned a gold metal with his team. It shone like the sun against his eyes. The glimmer of the metal spoke proudly of his hard work along with what his heart desired most, but it became a fast reminder that no matter what his heart wanted, he couldn’t join the army.

His thought broke as Trish slid her arms from behind him. She could barely get around due to her large stomach creating a barrier. “You did so good today. I bet you never thought you’d get something like that.”

He placed his hands over hers. “Nope. Never. I’m glad I did. It seriously was so good. Did you hear my parents - they never felt so happy for me.”

“Me either.” She kissed his back and turned to go to bed. She invited him to sit beside him.

He kissed her as he sat. “It was nice to do something like that. Something I just enjoyed and really felt like a part of.”

Trish held his hand and played with his palm. “And?”

“And what?” He looked at her curiously. 

“And I saw you talking with the recruiters. What did they say?”

Miguel slumped forward, down faced, and upset. “They said I should join. Gave me enrollment papers and my nearest location. Said because I’m in JROTC, I could start boot camp at a higher ranking.”

“That would be amazing!” She hopped where she sat, but then stopped when Miguel didn’t join her.

“I can’t enroll. It’s not in the cards.”

“What? Why not?”

“Seriously?” He turned to her and placed his hand on the top of her stomach. “Because of you both. I can’t go off to boot camp and the military and leave you both behind. You need me. She needs me. I don’t want to miss being there to watch her grow. It’s not an option.”

Trish sighed and squeezed his hand. “Remember how you said you would support any decision I made about this baby. Well, same goes for you. Just as you don’t want to hold me back from my dreams, I don’t want to hold you. If you want to join, go ahead. I can figure it out here with our parents. Plus, that would be a job and the money would help here.”

Miguel shook his head. “No way. I can’t make you stay behind and just be here without me.”

“Are you saying I can’t handle raising her on my own?”

“No. I’m saying I can’t handle being apart from you both for so long.”

She played with his palm using her thumb. “But this is what you want to do. I’ve never seen you this passionate. I’ve never seen you work so hard on something for you. You’re rarely selfish. It’s about time you took one step for yourself.”

“But…”

She placed a finger over his lips. “No buts. You have me in your life now. I’m determined to reach my dreams and I will help you reach yours. The only way you can hurt me is by quitting.” 

“Can I think about it?”

She let out a small smile. “Of course, but give it real thought, okay?”

“I promise.”

#

The due date was only a week away, but Trish had to force herself out of bed in order to watch Miguel graduate. She decorated his cap with a Voltron and the words, “Being My Best” on it. 

When he held the diploma in his hand, he knew his decision was the best option for his growing family. 

At the party back at the McClain house, Miguel finally found a moment alone with Trish. She’d tried to make every second of the day about him, but he forced her to just take a minute for them.

“Here,” he said, passing her a stack of papers.

She frowned at the sight of them. “This is an employment packet for an insurance agency.”

“Yep. I got a full time job starting July. They let me start later when I explained about the pregnancy.”

“But - this isn’t the military.”

“I know. I thought long and hard about this decision. Right now what is most important to me is you and Ginny. I want to enlist, but I want to be here for you both more, so I got a full time job in order to save us some money. You’ll be done with Miami in two years and I know Rosen will accept you for the restaurant business program. My goal is that by then, I’d saved enough money for us to buy a house in Orlando. Live happily together and a few months after you open Trish’s Bakery, I will enlist. I give you all my time now and then we swap.”

Her lips quivered as she started to cry. Her arms wrapped around his neck, squeezing him tightly before pulling back and giving him a long kiss.

“You mean it?”

“Yes. This way we both get a fair chance at living our dreams, together.”

She nodded her head and kissed him again. His hands wiped a tear as he placed his hands on her cheek. Neither knew how much time passed before Lance stepped into the room and cleared his throat.

“Sorry to interrupt, but they are ready for speeches.”

Miguel disgruntledly pulled away while Trish giggled. He said, “Go on ahead. I wanna talk to Lance for a second.” She kissed him one more time before wobbling away.

Once she disappeared, Lance looked over to him. “What’s up?”

Miguel tossed him a brown paper bag. “A gift. Today I dub you the Blue Paladin.”

Lance raised an eyebrow and opened it. Inside was a blue woven bracelet with a lion chain on the end. “What the hell is this?”

“You are the first Voltron Paladin! It is my duty as Lord Zarkon to locate the others. A team that will protect each other and the princess!” He declared overdramatically.

Lance glared at him stunned. “Wouldn’t it be better if you were Voltron?”

“Silence!” Miguel continued in a cartoonish voice. “I have the other four colors and it will be my duty to find the people who will protect you and Ginny.”

“You’re confusing me.”

Miguel smiled. “You need a family. One who will never judge you, protect you, and be someone outside of us.”

“What?”

Miguel stepped beside him and patted his shoulders. “You’re Ginny’s godfather. I’m leaving her life partly in your hands and you will need people to back you up… people who will  _ always _ have your back even if our family in the end doesn’t.”

Lance paused and widened his eyes. “Miguel…”

“I said I will always have your back. This is just another way to make sure you’re always safe and Ginny too. Go forward. Be courageous. Be true. Be the Blue Paladin and always protect the princess. Understood?”

With a heavy breath and a newfound strength, Lance slipped on the bracelet. “Understood.”

#

The chaos in the delivery room scared the life out of Miguel. Never in his life did he feel this way. How on earth was Trish doing this? It neared twenty-four hours and then suddenly in about five minutes the doctor had Trish making the final push. 

He held one of Trish’s legs, repeating the coaching phrases they had practice. Nothing about their surroundings were clean, pleasant, or easy, but he had to stay strong.

Olanda held the other leg, encouraging Trish to keep going as the head came out. Miguel internally freaked and he was certain he wasn’t hiding it on his face.

_ Gross. _

There was no other way to put it other than gross. The slime, liquids, and juices flowing out all while people directed Trish to push. It dizzied him.

With a few more pushes, a small child covered in white chunks was held up by the doctor. They quickly raised her against Trish’s bare chest as she started to cry from joy.

There it was - the perfect image.

Trish held little Ginny as they both cried. He hesitated to move or more like was paralized by shock, but when Trish looked over to him, smiling, he returned to reality and leaned over to kiss her forehead.

“You’re the strongest woman I know,” he whispered. 

“You are my greatest blessing,” she replied back.

They both turned to look down at the newborn and Olanda took a picture of the new family. Humbled by the miracle of their accident, he stroked his hand threw her hair and wept. Nothing on earth could beat this moment. 

He felt whole, complete, and pure. Being a father would be his greatest reward, but then when he once again looked over to Trish, he realized what was still missing.

He loved her. He loved her more now than ever before. They had a child together - perfect and radiant all because of her.

Maybe he still wasn’t whole - not until she became his wife.

#

The first two months were hell. The lack of sleep they both had, plus Miguel starting his new job - nothing about becoming a responsible adult was fun. At least until the day Ginny smiled at him for the first time. Then all the stress became worth it.

He had to remember that sense of joy on the night of Lance’s birthday that late July. The evening had started positive, but right at the beginning of dinner, Lance finally dropped a bomb and his parents learned about his truth.

Unfortunately, none of the McClain siblings were surprised by their reaction. Several Spanish curse words broke out. Mentions of choosing sin and betraying the family we’re spouted by Melly.

Lance sat in silence absorbing every word of it. 

Miguel felt as if he was watching his brother be abused, whipped again and again with words that weren’t true. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was simply being honest about himself. How could his parents not see that? Then the words he didn’t want to hear came out of Melly.

“I’m going to send you away. This needs to be fixed. You need to have your sinful thoughts reversed!”

Miguel could barely tolerate everything else they were saying, but the threat finally broke his silence. He told Lance he wouldn’t say anything, but the defeated look on Lance’s face as if he was honestly considering their words to be true.

As if he was ready to simply accept his punishment.

“Stop!” Miguel stood up and slammed his hands on the table. “You will do no such thing!”

“Miguel! Sit down! This has nothing to do with you!” commanded Henry.

“Are you serious?! Lance is my brother! I won’t stand for this kind of talk towards him!”

“You encouraged this, didn't you?” asked Melly.

“What I did was help Lance be honest with himself and with you all. He wanted you all to know who he truly is and it’s brave of him to say it.”

“Brave? He’s sinning! He’s chosen a side of evil,” she rebutted.

“He chose nothing. He was born this way and you have to accept him! Nothing has changed about Lance! He’s been this way from the start. Can’t you see that?”

“No. He is no longer the boy I raised,” she replied.

The words cause Lance to skip a breath and lower himself on the chair. His hand grazed against the blue bracelet, which gave Miguel the strength to keep fighting.

“He is exactly the boy you raised and if you can’t see that well…” He paused to think. He wasn’t sure how far his parents would go in mistreating Lance. He had to figure out a way that would always keep him safe. Finally, he answered, “I’m going to give you two choices. Either you accept Lance for who he is and learn from your ignorant point of view or you kick him out and never speak to the two of us again.”

Lance drastically turned to his brother and nearly stopped him, but Miguel glanced at him with eyes that said it would be alright.

“If you don’t accept him for who he is, I will never let you see Ginny or me ever again. So it’s your choice. Learn more about your son’s truth and accept it or lose two sons and a granddaughter.”

By the shocked look on their faces, Miguel knew he found the right ultimatum. Ginny held enough power in the family to either be the glue or the separator. He hated the thought of keeping her away from them, but more so he hated Lance being removed and disowned by the family.

The other McClain siblings turned to face Melly and Henry, all with the same fury as Miguel.

Outnumbered, Henry and Melly stood up and threw their napkins on the table. “Clean up,” she said, “this is not a negotiation.”

“Yes it is. Let’s go, Lance. You can spend the night at Trish’s.” He kicked back his chair and waited for Lance to follow.

Broken, Lance stood up and kept close to Miguel. As they walked away, Natalie, Ricardo, and Armando followed too. 

“I think we will all spend the night there,” said Natalie. 

They all disappeared together from the house, leaving Henry and Melly alone to their thoughts.

#

Two days later, Henry arrived to speak openly with his children, but Miguel didn’t allow anyone else to see him. Melly sat in the car on Trish’s driveway, while Miguel stood outside the door, arms crossed, ready to talk.

“So you agree to my terms?” he asked.

“Only if Lance tries going to the church group we found,” replied Henry.

“Nope. No way. You can’t try and convert him otherwise. You accept him openly or at least not try and change him. Nothing else.”

Henry sighed angrily. “Miguel, what do you want from us? We can’t allow that kind of behavior in our home.”

“Are you still being serious? I need you to understand that sexuality is a born trait. He’s always been bi. He isn‘t choosing to be this way.”

“Yes he is. It’s unnatural.”

“No it’s not!” He raised his voice louder than he ever had before. He felt a strength, a need to protect stronger than ever before. He was an adult now and they held little power over him and he had the legal ability to care for Lance if needed.

He knew his parents understood those facts.

“Miguel…” Henry begged.

“No! I’m tired of these words and how can you even say that to my face. You accepted me and Trish when we learned about Ginny. You helped us, offered shelter, support. We made a mistake! What we did is also considered sinful and yet you helped us! Why can’t you do the same for Lance?! It’s the least you could do!”

Henry stepped back and took a deep breath. After a few minutes, he answered. “Fine, but we won’t openly discuss it. We won’t accept boys in our home. Nothing of that side of him will be allowed in our home.”

“But you understand he will still be himself outside and you will not force him to hide it from anyone?”

He answered slowly, “Yes. Fine.”

“Let me speak with Lance. When he is ready, I will take everyone home.”

Henry nodded his head and began to walk away, until he saw the others staring at him through the window. Miguel watched as the siblings glared at him with Armando hugging Lance in comfort. Eventually, Henry returned to his car and drove off.

Miguel entered back in the home and exhaled deeply. His heart pounded against his chest and the breathlessness of his lungs. He never expected to ever confront his parents so harshly, but when he saw Lance - shattered, withered, and defeated - he knew it was worth the fight.

“Did you hear any of it?” he asked calmly.

“All of it,” whispered Lance.

“And?”

Lance held onto Armando’s hug and tried not to cry again. “One more day. I’ll go home tomorrow.”

Miguel nodded his head and approached him. He pulled Lance into a long, deep, and brotherly hug. “Just remember, I’m always here for you. You always have a safe place wherever I am. I know Trish and I will gladly take you in if you ever need us. And I will find the other Paladins. No matter what, remember, you are always safe.”

Lance released his tears, barring his face on Miguel’s shoulder. Miguel’s hands curled into Lance’s shirt. 

He meant every word he said - he’d always protect Lance - now and forever.

#

By the time the next school year rolled around, Lance had moved back home, Trish prepared to complete her senior year, and Miguel took charge of caring for Ginny and his full time job. 

He hated his work. The mundane tediousness of the same thing day after day made it harder to get out of bed some mornings, but the pay was great and the insurance was hard to beat. He had to remind himself often that it was all worth it.

Seeing Ginny when he picked her up from his parents made it all worth it.

She was only three months old, but her smile already felt like heaven. Miguel swore she knew who he was. Anytime he picked her up, she would move more and recently, started to smile and laugh.

Trish would say she had a special giggle for her father.

“ _ Que linda _ ,” he said to her as he adjusted her seatbelt to put her in the car.

He started walking out the door, but his mother spoke. “ _ Hijo? _ Can we talk?”

He paused, slowly turning to her. There had been tension since Lance’s birthday. All the McClain children held off a little from their parents. Miguel knew they always stood stronger together.

“Yes?” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you? Have you apologized to Lance?”

She didn’t respond.

“Right.” He turned to leave until she reached over to grab his arm.

“ _ Mira _ … I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to accept and love your son!” He held his ground, never budging whenever the topic was brought back.

“I love him I just…”

“Exactly! I know very well that the only reason you listened is because I threatened to take Ginny away from you. I’m not blind and neither is Lance. We will continue to play this game we are all feeling, but only because your lucky our love for each other out weighs everything else.  _ Mamí, te quiero, _ but until you learn about your ignorance, I don’t think it will ever be the same for any of us. You’ve already lost your sister. Don’t also lose your children.”

Melly’s fingers slowly let go of Miguel, allowing him to leave back to his new home with Trish and her parents.

#

“Peek a boo!” he repeated as a seven month old Ginny sat up and giggled. Her giggle sounded like angels and Miguel’s heart warmed up with each burst.

She reached upward and Miguel scooped her up.

“ _ Besito para abuela y abuelo?” _ He leaned Ginny to Trish’a parents as they kissed her goodbye on their way to work. 

As they closed the door, the rich aroma of rice stewing in a beef broth and hearty vegetables poured over from the kitchen. Miguel followed with his nose and found Trish cooking dinner in the kitchen. He felt blessed. A beautiful daughter in his arms and a wonderful woman taking care of him. 

Anytime her parents left, he felt more and more the small hole still lingering in his heart. He didn’t want to hinder anything about the plan they had set. Additionally, he didn’t want to do anything too soon.

He’d be nineteen in a few weeks and she just turned eighteen. They were young still. They could wait.

But he didn’t want to.

However, he kept reminding himself what they had was special. They lived together, partners in crime always and, he hoped, forever.

“Ginny wants some of that,” he teased.

“Well she has to wait a few more months. She can have some boob though,” Trish replied.

“I’d like some boob.” He grinned mischievously.

She smacked his arm with the back of her hand. “Oh my god! Behave!”

He laughed and leaned down to kiss her. “I just love everything about you.”

She hummed and wiggled her hips before teasing her nose closer to get another taste of his lips. “You better, hopeless.”

He smiled while kissing her and hearing Ginny giggle in the background.

Beside them - he was no longer hopeless.

#

Trish ate her lunch in the cafeteria with Natalie. They had one month before graduation. Time had moved far too quickly and it was unbelievable that Ginny was turning one in less than a month and she would start the culinary school in six weeks.

“So happy school is almost over,” said Natalie.

“Yep, but it’s none stop from here. There is way too much to do,” replied Trish.

“Yeah. But you got my brother. And you get to go to prom this time! Not pregnant.”

Trish laughed and continued to eat her meal. “True. I love my dress. I’ve kept it a secret this whole time from Miguel.”

“Oooh! You’re gonna stun him. I just know it.”

“I hope so.” She blushed. “You want anything. I’m getting some chips.”

“I’m good. Just don’t go outside the cafe.”

“Huh? Why not?”

Natalie shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.” She waved her hand and smiled suspiciously.

Trish made her way to the snack cart and started ordering some chips and a cookie. Suddenly, the lights in the cafe dimmed and a familiar song started to play through the speakers.

A song played by a saxophone.

Trish’s eyes opened wide as she slowly turned to see Miguel wearing a navy blue suit with a black tie and vest along with a pair of sunglasses. He looked like a band member of a swingers bar with two straps of a backpack on his shoulder.

In a blink, the rest of the jazz band appeared and so did Ricardo, Armando, and Lance - all sporting the same suit. Then Armando started lip syncing ‘Careless Whisper.’

“‘I feel so unsure. As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor. As the music dies, something in your eyes. Calls to mind the silver screen. And all its sad good-byes.’” 

Trish froze in place, watching as Lance and Ricardo came to her and grabbed each of her arms to pull her closer. 

Armando kept lip syncing, moving beside Miguel as he played the saxophone. 

“‘Tonight the music seems so loud. I wish that we could lose this crowd. Maybe it's better this way. We'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say. We could have been so good together. We could have lived this dance forever. But no one's gonna dance with me. Please stay!”

Miguel walked closer to Trish nearing the end of the song. Lance and Ricardo danced beside her as Armando took her hand and continued to pretend to saronate to her. 

Her face flushed red, unable to believe what was happening on a normal school day. “How?” she asked, but no one answered, continuing.

As the song faded, Miguel I clipped is instrument, handed it to Lance and then turned around to show his back. Sitting in a carrier was Ginny, smiling and waving her arms as she had been dancing during the whole song. Trish wept lightly and did a little dance with Ginny.

“How about you take her out?” suggested Miguel.

She raised an eyebrow and started to remove Ginny from the carrier. Keeping her focus on safely removing Ginny, it took her a moment to realize that she was wearing an outfit she’d never seen before. She held out Ginny and read the words printed on her bright pink onesie.

“Will you marry my daddy?”

Trish gasped and focused back on Miguel to see him on one knee with a simple rose gold ring with a diamond in the center. “Miguel,” she barely said.

Everyone in the cafeteria stood up to watch. Many were cheering, but once he began to speak, they hushed.

“Trish. I know we really haven’t talked about marriage. We’ve been so lost with planning our future careers, our home, our daughter, but we keep forgetting to talk about us, but I never stopped thinking about you. Every second already feels as if we are meant to be and, I know I could wait a few more years, but I don’t want to. You make me feel hopeful. Only you give me that drive to feel important, wanted, and loved. You are the only one who makes me feel as if I’m not hopeless. So please, let’s just end this. Put the missing piece between us and be my wife.”

Trish hugged Ginny closer as she openly cried. She nodded her head and blurted out, “Yes!”

He stood up, placed the ring on her finger and kissed her, hugging both her and Ginny in the process. The crowd cheered, but he didn’t hear any of them. All he felt was his heart becoming whole.

All he had was his future.

#

“We got married a few months later and followed everything according to plan after that. I enlisted the moment Trish got the loan for the bakery. We have our house and Lance moved in when he heard I was leaving. It’s been perfect ever since. And after this mission, I’ll officially come home permanently.”

Miguel looked down to the picture in his dirty hands, still bruised from the spar he had the night before with his most trusted comrade - the first person he ever called his best friend. 

He turned the picture over and continued to speak. “And that, my dear Keith, is how I became the luckiest man alive.” 

The glimmering smile of a ten year old Ginny sporting a pair of playful star shaped pink glasses as she posed with her favorite uncle and mother. In the background stood a tall roller coaster, green and mighty. Miguel could remember the roar when it launched up from the last time he had been home and Lance had treated him and the family to a complimentary trip to Universal Studios. 

It seemed that they had gone for another visit and were celebrating Ginny facing her fear of larger rollercoasters. Lance’s hand held Ginny’s shoulder with pride as he smiled perfectly with the Florida sun in his loose blue tank top and rope necklace and sunglasses sitting on his head. The blue bracelet hung happily and proudly on his wrist. To the opposite side stood Trish.

_ Oh Trish… _

Looking like perfection, as always. Her hair curled into a shorter bob, but still wild and teasing as he remembered back in high school. Her newer square glasses framed her face even better than before, causing him to gaze deeply into her eyes. 

Even through an image her words always spoke.

_ I love you… don’t forget it. _

How could he ever? She meant the world to him - they all did. 

“So have I convinced you that even us hopeless guys have a chance?” he asked his best friend.

"Perhaps, but that's an awful lot of shit to wade through in order to get to that point." Keith shook his head.

“Gotta give the whole picture or there is no point to the moral.” He laughed, standing up and stretching his arms upward. “So have you given my suggestion any thought? Are you coming home with me after this?”

"I have nothing to go back to. And before you say it, they are your family, not mine." Keith pointed his finger at Miguel, trying to keep his stoic composure.

Miguel chuckled. “Yeah, and that adorable daughter of mine would still love to meet her uncle. I mean, clearly she loves you if she drew you a picture.” Miguel rocked in his cot and focused on his desired goal. “And don’t even try and say you’re not curious about Lance.”

"He's gonna take one look at me and be bored. You can't possibly think that someone as creative and interesting as him would want this." Keith dramatically motioned to himself. "You're a horrible person for planting these thoughts in my head."

“First of all, you’re not boring. I wouldn’t be friends with you if you were. Secondly, can you trust that I know my brother? I wouldn’t try to set him up with just anyone. Heck, I think you’re the only person, man or woman, I’ve ever tried to introduce him to. And you can’t tell me to my face you’re not interested.”

"Of course I'm interested." He muttered and crossed his arms.

Miguel smiled big and mysterious. “So I was right. And I bet I’m also right that you’re using that picture I gave you as your bookmark?”

"Stop going through my stuff. It was the only thing I had to use for one." Keith huffed.

“Yeah… okay.” Miguel winked and observed as Keith shifted his body uncomfortably and rolled over on the cot. “I just hope your taking my proposal serious. You can live with us for a while and we’ll help you find a place. I think it’s about time you set some roots. And maybe go on one date with Lance. I promise after you do, you won’t want to come back to all of this.”

"And if I do? What then?" 

“I’ll just have to disown you.” He laughed loudly, brooding, and jestfully. “Trust me when I say you won’t. I know you. I know him. You both are idiots and made for each other. But you can stay in your denial all you want.”

"It only becomes denial if you end up being right." Keith chucked his pillow at Miguel.

Miguel allowed it to hit his face and laughed. “You’ll see. I’m never wrong about things like this.” He exhaled, looking down at the picture one more time and trying to contain the swelling in his heart. 

Soon he would be home - putting to rest the passion he had for his career and ready to follow the heart that belonged to his family. 

With a somber breath he said, “it’s crazy to think how life turned out. It’s all so crazy. That’s what life is really - a giant mess of sadness, bitterness, struggles, questions with little resolution, but mixed in are sprinkles of happiness. Every damn moment of life is worth reaching that happiness. All we ever do is make choices that we hope will lead us there. No matter what life throws at us, what journey it takes us in, the bumps in the road, the winding path, the turbulence - everything we do is to strive for those bits of happiness. The hope of joy is what keeps us going. And it’s worth every second.”

"You're just gonna have to prove that to me. Now hurry up before we're late."

Just as Keith prepared to stand, Miguel threw a small paper bag his way. “By the way, happy birthday… Red Paladin.” He grinned playfully and waited for Keith to remove the small red woven bracelet with a lion chain. 

Keith rolled his eyes in response, but took the bracelet into his hand and put it on. He stood up and grabbed his things in order to head out including his helmet with a child’s drawing of a fairy taped within.

Miguel placed the picture within the inner pocket of his uniform, close to his heart, just where they belonged. He followed Keith and they exited the tent and towards the headquarters for the orders of their next mission.

Time kept moving its course, weighing heavier as it passed. A new red bracelet hanging from Keith’s wrist along with a promise he never expected he needed to keep.

_ And it’s worth every second. _

Miguel’s words repeated again and again in his own mind. The reminder of what kept him going - the happiness he fought for everyday. The people pressed against his heart and his comrade walking ahead of him as motivation. Time counted his breaths, steps, and courage. He measured the distance he was willing to go in order to achieve his ultimate goal.

_ We have to make what we can with life. And I’ve always felt my life has been to seek the good - in me and in others. _

And with his final exhale, he pushed past Keith, taking charge, and protecting his best friend, until the seconds stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you crying? 
> 
> Bet some of you saw that last scene coming and some of you were shocked I ended it there. Master plan after all - got to collect more tears for the jar. 
> 
> I wonder how it would feel to now go back and reread Lion's Chain Years 1-5. I bet it gives some clarity. Ugh, I hurt myself writing this. <3 
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